Back in the cave you groan as your skin finally stops moving and settles into place. You groan once more as your body finally finishes shifting, the bones breaking themselves and rearranging, the cartilage ripping and shifting, reforming. Then you can breath again. You can see, though it is different from your human vision. You ...

“What in the name of Chinese food are you doing to that pot sticker?” You look up at your cousin who’s watching you in abject horror as you lift the chicken dumpling from the bowl of ranch dressing. “It’s not like we had any sauce,” you mutter, raising the food to your lips and crunching ...