The thick layer of dust and grime on the table exploded into a small cloud as François set his sketchbook down. These old classrooms were not what the young artist would call ideal, but they were good for what he used them for: getting away from people for an hour or two. And an hour or two of solitude was just what he needed.
Without even thinking about it, he began shifting. First his face changed, morphing into something between a hawk and a fox; his feet and hands followed, changing into paws and talons. Pretty soon, his body had completely changed. It took a moment for the transformation to sink in; it always did. Changing between human and gryphon form wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, especially since François spent the majority of time in the former. Not that it mattered; he felt more at home in this state.
Hopping up onto the table, the gryphon flipped through the pages of his old sketchbook; some pages were crammed with sketches and comments, and others barely had anything on them. With a faint smile, he turned to an empty page, and started drawing his thoughts. He didn't even realize he had left the door wide open....
Without even thinking about it, he began shifting. First his face changed, morphing into something between a hawk and a fox; his feet and hands followed, changing into paws and talons. Pretty soon, his body had completely changed. It took a moment for the transformation to sink in; it always did. Changing between human and gryphon form wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, especially since François spent the majority of time in the former. Not that it mattered; he felt more at home in this state.
Hopping up onto the table, the gryphon flipped through the pages of his old sketchbook; some pages were crammed with sketches and comments, and others barely had anything on them. With a faint smile, he turned to an empty page, and started drawing his thoughts. He didn't even realize he had left the door wide open....