Hunter is vaguely aware of the succubus girl climbing out of the car. He hears it. He thinks he even sees it. He certainly smells her as his nose begins to elongate.

Yet his digs claws into the snow, scraping up mud and grass. His haunches settle back in the snow. His bones are very nearly set into shape, fur about to elongate, and suddenly it stops.

The pressure lightens, and he slowly gains control over himself piece by piece. His knees bury in the snow, and fingers are soon slipping on loosened earth. He shudders as his mouth takes it's normal shape again, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. It's been so long since a change took this much energy out of him...

Yet as soon as he gains some of that energy back, he's slipping in the snow as he scrambles to his feet and rushes to Vanyel's side. It's shocking how much he looks like his husband, every single time... but that scent more than reminds him who this really is. That doesn't reduce the concern, though.

"Hey, you okay? She didn't do anything to you, did she?" Even as he asks, he raises his head, sniffs the air deliberately, trying to track where the girl still runs.