She'd never come across such an apparently deliberate attempt to mask a smell before. So many layers of smoke, which was known to throw off the ability to pick up on scents. So many different types of smoke, and so expertly laid. She moved about the apartment in a grid pattern, covering every square foot in such a way as to never cross her own path. The last thing she needed was to add her own scent to the rest in the area and only make her job harder.<br/><br/>She needed to be able to recognize her quarry instantly, which was her primary function in doing this... but there was also much to be gained from closely examining the scent of a person. Not only did they leave the scent of their own natural body behind, but also of what they carried on them by way of clothing and residue. She had never met a tracker who could best her ability to catch a scent, but this was almost beyond her. She persisted, working for hours to cover the entire apartment. She paid little attention to what she found, filing it away to be examined later. For now, she was focused entirely on the simple act of finding and storing every scent she could.<br/><br/>When she finally determined she'd done all she could in this form, she sighed wearily, returning to where she'd left her clothing. Altering her shape was a difficult procedure at best, and decidedly painful. Doing so once in a day would be hard enough, as most would be grateful for the ability to do so at will. To do so twice in a few hours was unheard of. She knew it would leave her weak and vulnerable to attack, but she needed to catalogue what she'd found while it was fresh in her mind. Resigned to the risks, she padded across the floor to double check that she'd locked the door tightly. Satisfied, she began pacing apprehensively, concentrating. Slowly, her body began to itch and prickle. It was working.<br/><br/>She paced mindlessly as the itching became a rising burn. Finally, when the pain became too much, forelegs buckled and she sank to the floor, writhing and whining. The pain was incredible. It washed away all other thoughts just like a tidal wave wipes out a small coastal village. She felt her bones grind and creak, her skin crawl and melt. Her muscles felt as though they would tear free of the bones. Her back popped and she felt her legs jerk back, pulling behind her and elongating.<br/><br/>It was too much... she couldn't do it. She tried to stop, but found it was beyond her control. The process could not be reversed, and yet she had no energy to push ahead. Panting and groaning, her voice half human, half growl, she went limp on the carpet, her vision flickering. It kept going. It never stopped. Her limbs jerked and writhed of their own accord. Slowly, the burning began to fade away, leaving a thrumming, pulsing throb of pain. She knew it was almost done. Her vision flickered once more and went black. The blackness of her vision seeped into her mind and she found herself drifting off.