"I'd explain, but I'll let it do the talking." Now was not the time to speak. Now was the time for action, dammit, and things got even more tense with this Troll coming on into the fight. Ursaren just had to hope for the time being that his comrades around him would be supportive of his true power.
The old man put away his trident and shield, placing the two things onto his knapsack, as he walked forward towards the Troll. As he stepped, his size began to change as he grew, his size quickly reaching up to the height of An-Hasst, if only a few inches shorter at most. The old man began to sprout brownish-grey fur all over his frame, and sharp claws on what were once his hands. His face started to distort as he grew bearlike features, even including the snout and ears. What was once a burly old man now stood a large bear, guarded by a blue tunic as he stared directly into the face of the Troll in front of him, his muzzle opening to speak. What was heard by the others could only be described as a dry, deep, and aged voice, one that struck fear into the nearby Gundarogs, causing them to back away from the Werebear and the Troll.
"Fight 'rogs. Ursa get Troll." came out of the werebear, his stance changing to show that he wasn't playing around. Old Ursa ran forward, clawing at the chest of the large beast, sending him backwards and causing him to flatten a few more 'rogs, their blood mixing with the blood of the already-fallen. The werebear looked back at his friends and bellowed a mighty "GO!" as he returned to his fight against the Troll.
