Make the most out of no time

Good shoulder it might have been, but everything was agony at this point and Remi couldn't help the way his eyebrows notched together as that all-too pitiful need to simply break down into tears came over him again. It was all just too much, but he couldn't just let himself die here out in the woods, if only because he wouldn't do that to Sam. "Iii—" He tried, but his lips were swollen, his tongue dry, and his throat caked with blood.   Could he shift? He hardly felt at all like he had the energy to breathe. The last time he'd been shot while as an animal, shifting back and forth had not been helpful, and Isla had advised against it given the differences in anatomy between his various shifts. But Sam was right, and Remi could think of no other way. Taking a breath, he gripped onto Sam for a moment, before allowing his body to sink into something else. Shrinking suddenly, Remi did not become a bird. Even his wounded mind knew that he'd not be able to control a wounded hawk's instincts and would likely lash out at Sam with his talons. And so, Remi became a matted ball of grey and black fur curled into a circle.  Shifting caused his wounds to open anew, and from his tiny body small streams of blood began to flow with ease. But Remi didn't seem to mind, as he did not appear to be conscious. Shock was a wonderful thing. remi Too long till I drown in your hands