oh this thread, it's red, it's red

MERCUTIO o' me of little faith Mercutio had always thought there should be rather more instinct that came about when one changed their form. It was hard to tell, still reeling as he was from the interdimensional mindfuckery, but it seemed that this time there was even less of it. No matter the body, Mercutio had never had magic of his own before and so was not able to recognize the added degree of separation that being a shapeshifter was adding into the equation. His body, he assumed, was as it would be, and what it was might take him a moment or two to figure out. He gave an experimental waggle of a paw in front of him, both watching and feeling the new configuration of limbs worked. ‘Dog’ was his first thought, but paw was big paw and teeth were big teeth and so he was getting to the point of revising his hypothesis to ‘wolf’. The words in his mind brought into sharp relief that he’d been too engrossed in himself to even begin to fathom his surroundings. He flailed, trying to whip around towards the sound (not sound?) and did upwards of two double-takes in each direction, actually spinning fully around before clumsily making his way to a standing position facing the black wolf. Ah… yes. Wolf. That makes sense, I guess. Because he felt that speech, or what he might recognize as speech should be possible, Mercutio opened his mouth. What came out was somewhere between a bark and a yawn and immediately he snapped his mouth shut again, amber eyes filled with puzzlement as he looked back at the other wolf. She’d spoken, hadn’t she? He paused a moment, trying to know how to speak some semblance of Wolf and ended up sinking down into a sitting position again and lowering his ears and head with a pitiful whine in her direction. He hoped it was a sufficiently wolfy way of saying “Yes, hello, I am very dumb please help me.”