Drake woke that evening feeling antisocial - it was a feeling he got sometimes, a feral sort of introversion. He had drunk deeply of the elder Ravnos called mikal on his first night at the Exchange, and had not needed to feed for several nights... he missed the hunt. Without thinking about it too deeply he shifted to the form his fellow gangrel Madison had taught him, the common domestic cat... in feline form Drake's fur was entirely of a black sheen, except for a dime-sized circle of fluffy white on his chest and another on his belly. He slipped out of his room, practice having made him a bit more dexterous than a real cat would be with things like doorknobs.

Obfuscated to invisibility and walking almost silently, he first went to the stable, wanting a look at the horses. He discovered that they were not quite horses after all... more alien beasts, he thought. They resembled horses in their general form, but they seemed to be more closely related to antelope or deer, as though someone had crossed a Clydesdale with a gazelle, the result having an almost prehistoric feel. They seemed to sense his presence somehow, but maybe that was his imagination. He thought about letting the veil drop and trying to talk to one of the animals, but decided against it until he knew more about them and had made sure it would not offend some rule of Whitebird's domain.

Emerging from the stables to the fenced area outside them, he peeked at the tulaq as well. She seemed to be sleeping, and unable to hear or see him, and he thought he saw the infant inside her kicking at her belly as she rested. He wondered if she had fought her way into exhaustion or was just pretending to sleep to see if her captors would be fooled. If this creature were real, he thought suddenly, then quite likely many of the creatures of the strange chessboard were real. He wondered if he stayed long, if he would meet most of them. This thought led to the memory of watching Whitebird die and come back to life, next to that chessboard…

Drake had seen mages bring people back to life; he had seen vampires changed into humans, and dead spirits given new bodies. But that had always been of great effort by a powerful mage - and even the most powerful needed to go to their own realities to work their strongest magics. Like Keri's realm... he thought of the dragon wristlet that Keri had given to him. He still had it, but he did not wear it anymore. Claire had told him he could not put it on unless he was sure he was going to use it. He could still remember how much of a relief that had been. He had hated having it on, yet, he could not justify to himself taking the risk of leaving it behind. But it made him feel like a coward to have such an escape option always at hand. Claire had understood this Gordian knot and had cut through it neatly with the sword of her will. Perhaps her jealousy of Keri had added a bit to her reasons beneath the surface, but he did not mind that. He did not need the constant reminder of Keri, either. So the bracelet was no longer an escape route, cheating him of the thrills of the risks he took. Now it was a way back to Keri's realm should he ever wish to go there again, and a memento of the friendship they'd shared.

Drake crept from the stableyard toward the forest. Its darkness beckoned him invitingly. He wandered quiet and invisible through the trees and underbrush. A scent wafted toward him, blood and musk. It was a small rodent, he thought. He hunkered down and stalked the creature through the woods to its burrow, then waited with a cat's patience for it to re-emerge. An unerring pounce and he'd trapped the trembling chipmunk between his paws. It could see him now, and he looked into its frightened eyes and spoke to it. It was paralyzed with fear and could not answer. But in a low cat's murring he told it that he was going to let it go, and that it should run as fast as it could; that if it went back underground he would kill it and lap up its blood eagerly, but if it just ran he would let it live. He was not sure if it had understood, but he released it anyway.

The chipmunk ran away so frantically that Drake thought it had probably understood the threat. He streaked after it in a blur of shining black, faster in the open but his larger size made it trickier for him to navigate the underbrush. The chipmunk darted under branches, over logs, through bushes and brambles. Drake followed, barely feeling the thorns that scraped him. They would have bloodied an ordinary cat but Drake's flesh was preternaturally tough, his Fortitude highly developed. He scented the blood of the chipmunk and let the Beast within him course it, not frenzying but giving it rein that he would not normally allow, knowing this would mollify it and ultimately give him better control.

Nearly all animal instinct now, the vampire cat ran, not quite silent for the speed, but making no more noise than the terrified chipmunk he pursued. At length, its energy spent, the chipmunk tried to hide in a tight maze of weeds overgrowing thick gnarled tree roots. Drake stopped, targeted its shivering form, and pounced, landing atop the creature, his claws grazing into its hide. He smelled its blood and a low growl rose in his throat, his fur standing on end along the back of his neck and spine. He held the helpless rodent down with a paw and licked it, almost as if it were a kitten. His rough tongue cleaned the fur of the blood, again and again, the creature finally going unconscious out of fright. His beast growled a bit triumphantly and returned to its place deep inside him; he looked at the chipmunk, decided it was still alive, and kicked leaves over it hiding it from sight. It had given him a good run. He didn't want some owl or weasel to get it too easily.

Drake wandered back to his room and as the sun rose, he curled up in a circle on his bed, sleeping in cat form for the day's time.