Annie moved before Henry realised anything had happened. She had risen to her feet and reached a pace that matched, and then grew greater, than the girl's and Henry had no doubt that Annie would catch the limping, loping girl before she made any great distance. Almost as an afterthought, Henry took to his own feet, chasing Annie but with far less grace and speed.

"Stop! Leave her be!" Branches whipped against his face, ignoring his flapping hands as he ran, eyes half-closed. "She's just a child!"

"A child that could bring every Skinchanger on the Peak down on our heads!" Her voice drifted back as she crashed through the undergrowth. "A child that'd tear us apart afore look at us if'n she changes."

Those last words faded as Henry heard the furious rustling of her racing feet in the undergrowth come to an end. He tried to look beneath his arm, there to save his eyes from errant twigs, and saw that Annie had come to an abrupt halt. So abrupt that he almost ran into her as his own, smaller legs carried him a little too fast than they could manage. He stumbled, fell to his knees, and saw that ravaged face of the girl before him, snarling.

Even as he tried to scramble backward on his hands and knees, he saw something both strange and remarkable. In her hand, the girl held a chain, similar to that that he and Annie had found further down the trail. She took the spring-gated hook and clipped it onto a hoop upon a collar about her throat, then stepped back, still making animalistic noises.

"Go back! Go back afore I hurt you!" The girl howled in pain as her back twisted, sending her to her hands and knees in a grotesque parody of Henry's position. "I swear I try! I try to keep my temper, but sometimes I can't stop it."

Henry could see sweat appearing on the girl's forehead, snaking down her skin on one side of her face, trailing across the fur on the other side. Her entire body spasmed as she dug fingers into the soil, clawed and human. A crack resonated around them and the girl's human arm snapped, bending in an impossible direction, accompanied by a scream of pain.

"Oh, sweet child, you can't hurt me." Crouching, a fraction of an inch out of the girl's reach, Annie tilted her head as she watched the girl writhe and scream as more bones broke, rearranging themselves even as they watched. "And I ain't about to cause you harm, less'n you try to harm us an' I do not believe you want that. We just didn't want no others finding us, is all."

"You ... you don't understand!" The girl's head snapped upward, fur growing across her entire face, jaw beginning to protrude. "It killed my Ma and Pa and I couldn't stop it. I do not ... I do not wish any more to come ... to harm because of me!"

A scream punctuated her words at several instances as the girl struggled to contain the monster within. And, each scream followed another, heart-rending snap of bone. She collapsed to the ground, curling her legs to her chest, but that did not avail her. Both legs had grown, claws appearing upon toes that looked more like pads. Her face now resembled a muzzle, more than a human one.

There appeared no stopping the change, now, as the girl settled into a whimper, the chain attached to the thick, metal collar rattling as her entire body shuddered. Yet Annie did not step back. With her hands on her knees, she continued to watch the girl transforming before her eyes as though it were nothing more than a lost stray that she wished to care for.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me." She sang. The same tune he had heard her sing in the jail in Prescott, though her voice sounded lower, softer. "I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind, but now I see."

As she sang, Annie reached out toward the girl that had become more than half the creature of nightmare that Henry feared. Her hand began to brush the girl's hair, the braids and pigtails had come undone, but it remained largely human hair. The girl's whimpers soon became sniffles as those strange eyes looked up toward Annie. She hiccoughed once, twice, and Henry thought his senses played tricks upon him.

The fur that had started to protrude from the girl's skin began to recede. Her bones stopped breaking, her back began to uncurl, straighten and pop back into its true position. The howls and screams were replaced by the very normal sound of childhood tears. Annie scooted a little further forward, lifting the girl's head onto her lap, continuing to stroke the girl's hair.

"My Ma used to sing that to me." The girl had almost returned to human shape, marred only by the arm and leg that the changes had damaged before, and her half-lupine face. "Afore it ate her. Afore I ate her."

"'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved." Annie glanced to Henry and he watched as she placed a big knife beside her leg before using that hand to cuddle the scared, ruined child. "How precious did that grace appear, The hour I first believed."

As Annie continued to comfort the girl, Henry returned to their horses, retying them off the dusty, overgrown trail. At least the horses could not be seen as easy as before, but they had neither the time, nor the inclination to care about that as they had chased the young Skinchanger. He had seen that change before and it never failed to sicken him as the disease broke the bodies of the afflicted in order to rebuild them into something vile and glutinous for human flesh.

He had never seen a transformation stop mid-change. Nor had he seen a Skinchanger so quick to chain themselves up. It had become apparent, through his investigations, that most Skinchangers learned to enjoy their new life. The change gave them strength, endurance and power that few had in their normal lives. Most succumbed to the affliction, welcoming it until the day reckoning came at the barrels of many guns. No-one suffered Skinchangers to live, if they could help it, for their appetites were inhumane and insatiable.

This girl had not only fought her transformation, but had succeeded. With the intervention of Annie, for certain, but the change had stopped. Reversed. This, most certainly, would become part of his next article. An article that Annie had already contributed enough content to fill a year's worth of newspapers. A child Skinchanger that could stave off the transformation. His colleagues, back East, would never believe him.

"What's your name, little one?" Returning with a canteen in hand, he offered it to the girl, his hand only close enough that she could reach it. "I am Henry, and this is my ... my friend, Annie."

"Elisabeth Bonnie." As the girl drank, her other hand touched the hook that held her fast to the chain. She had checked it more than once. "My Ma and Pa are ... were ... Winifred and Albert Bonnie. My Pa once worked in a bank. My Ma didn't work, but she could cook. Yes sir, she could cook. I could eat everything she made twice over and still want more. I'm ... I'm sorry. I don't get to talk none up here. Leastways, not no-one kind like yourselves."

It looked genuine, the motherly look upon Annie's face as she tucked Elisabeth's hair from her face, but that knife still remained beside her, out of sight of the girl, dappled sunlight through the forest canopy catching upon the blade. He couldn't say whether it were genuine or not, but he liked to think it was.

"The one's you do speak to, I'm wondering if'n you might know one man I'm looking for. He might have arrived only recent like." Annie covered her eye with one hand and then used that self-same hand to point toward her shoulder. "Got one eye gouged out, black, greasy, straggly hair down to here? Goes by the name Hennessy?"

The girl sat up, loosened hair falling about her ravaged features and she stared at Annie, not through malice, nor fear of her, nor of suspicion. The description of Hennessy, or mention of his name had caused her reaction. She shook her head violently, her clawed hand digging into the soil once again and Henry feared the mere mention of the man could trigger the girl's transformation once again.

"No, ma'am, you mustn't look for him. He's a bad one. Real bad." She reached for the chain, clinking it as she held it up. "He don't abide by the covenant we all made. If'n we feel the change a'coming, we all chain ourselves up til it passes. Not him, ma'am. He likes it. He done near can change as and when he feels to."

"I know he's a bad man, Sweet Elisabeth, that's why I have to find him." The motherly face had dropped away, now, and only the Annie Henry had come to know remained. "I aim to find this man and bring him to justice for the wrongs he done. Dead or alive makes no difference. Skinchanger or man."

"You don't need to search for him, Miss Annie." The girl began to back away until she came to lean against the tree that the chain attached to. She still continued to shake her head, but her eyes flickered on one direction one time too many. Annie had seen it as well as Henry. "He'll find you."

The girl turned her face away, as though she didn't want to see them anymore, and began to run her fingers through her hair, her claws catching at knots as she started to braid her hair once more. Henry felt a great need to comfort the girl. She had lost so much and, upon meeting someone that didn't look at her with pity or fear, that had shown her a kindness and comforted her, it looked to her as though she were about to lose someone again.

"Elisabeth? Will you be alright?" Henry stopped himself from stepping within the distance of the chain, taking a small step back. "Out here? Alone? After we are done with our task, we could, I could ..."

"I've been alone for some time now, sir, and I'll be alone for some time to come." She lifted her gaze to him and Henry saw only the human part of her face. "It's my penance for what I done."

Annie rose to her feet, putting the knife back into its sheath, and turned away without a second glance toward the girl. Henry could understand that, after a fashion, she had her own cross to bear and the child had no part in that. She had done enough, telling, silently, where Annie could find Hennessy. Henry had conflicted feelings. The Starfall had ruined many lives, across the world. Some tales, however, were more saddening than others.