Park snarled, a half-frustrated, half-furious sound that ripped through the space, and then abruptly dipped his head as if trying to bite at his own shoulder. Horrified, Cooper instinctively reached out to stop him, wincing at the way Park’s lips pulled back over vicious-looking teeth that disappeared into his own fur as he strained to gnaw on himself, but then hesitated. Hand frozen halfway, not sure if he should touch, not wanting to control...

“Help him,” Cola snapped, and it took Cooper a moment to realize she was speaking to him.

“I don’t—” Cooper started.

“He can’t shift if something is interrupting a critical movement point,” Cola said. “Check around the radial nerves.” She tapped her own shoulder impatiently.

Cooper blinked, but quickly recovered and reached for Park. As soon as his hand landed on his soft fur, Park went very still and docile. Cooper could feel Park’s gaze on him as he carefully ran his fingers through the fur at the top of his right foreleg and quickly found a thin but long shard of glass lodged in the flesh.

“Got you,” Cooper murmured. “One, two—” He pulled the glass out carefully and heard Park huff slightly.

He took a few steps away from Cooper, shook himself heartily, and then bounced on his front legs a couple times, as the sound of clacking stones began. Park stood, shedding one skin for another. Even anticipating it, Cooper couldn’t really figure out what happened or how exactly Park’s coat seemed to fall and never land anywhere.

Cooper picked up the pile of clothes and walked them over to him, then, a little nervously, peeked at his family, still watching from across the room. To his surprise and relief, Sophie just looked impressed, Ed satisfied, and Dean gave him a thumbs-up, which Cooper decided to wipe from his memory immediately.

Seemingly unconcerned with his audience, or maybe just distracted by the truth of Arthur’s identity, Park tugged on the generic pair of sweatpants and picked up the conversation where he’d left off. “Why wouldn’t you tell me the truth, though?” he asked Cola, words a little looser in his mouth than usual as he adjusted to the shift. “Why did I have to get the same story as everyone else?”

“Helena and I agreed it was safer for you that way.”

Park made a protesting sound not dissimilar to his earlier growls in fur.

“Take a moment and remember yourself six years ago,” Cola said, holding up a hand. “You were devastated, not speaking to your family, unmoored, and dangerously desperate for connection with your mother. What would knowing the whole story have changed? Your father is still dead, he was still betrayed by a man who does not exist anymore. The only difference is that as long as you thought the traitor had been killed like everyone else, Daisy wouldn’t have any reason to manipulate you.”