Amy's howl trailed off, and she shook off the tattered remains of her clothing just as her change finished, beginning her new life as Flaxmane. With a snort and a shiver, she lifted a pawlike hand to brush her unruly locks out of her eyes.
All around her, the other girls on the trip were in varying states of disarray, ranging from shock to outright curiosity. Even the punkers with shaved heads were growing luxurious manes, and the wild hair sprawled all over their frames and the ground, tangling in spots, forming almost a wondrous quilt, red, brown, black, blonde, silver, snowy white.
The shrieks and gasps were turning to snarls and moans, as the changing girls discovered themselves...and each other.
Leslie was nearest to Flaxmane, intrigued enough to have began tracing a clawed finger around the fabric that covered her budding, stiffening teats, yet apalled enough to yank her hand away from her chest as if scalded. She was confused and conflicted, quickly growing thick jet tufts of hair upon her cheeks.
"Amy why," she asked, nearly crying, "why is this happening?"
Flaxmane padded over to her, and drew Leslie's head to her golden furred shoulder.
"Shh," she snarled comfortingly, "No words. You'll thank me."
Leslie hugged Flaxmane, sobbing. While the others may have had carnal needs, she only needed to be held. Flaxmane did so.