The village she was currently staying at was still sleeping when Tikaani slipped out of the plush tent she'd made her home and picked her way down to the seashore, thick furs bundled around her form. It was still dark out, though the sun was beginning to rise and cast just enough light to see by, but for her it was the perfect hour. Few people would be out and about, the ocean was calm and still. It was just her and the sea; just her and her true home.
She walked along the shore for some time before she reached the cliffs where she had stored her skin the night before. Pulling it out from a deep crevice, she unrolled it, smoothed out the crinkles, and for a moment just relished in the familiar smell and feel of it, the sense of connectedness, of wholeness. It was getting more and more difficult, wandering the tundra and spending less time at sea, and she relished these moments.
Shedding her clothes--her human skin, in a sense--she slipped back into her sealskin and took to the sea.
She lost track of time, hunting fish the old fashioned way, enjoying the taste of raw meat, and when Tikaani returned the sun had risen almost completely. Fish guts! She had lost track of time! The village would be awake and moving now, and if she wasn't quick, things could get awkward fast.
Reaching the shore, she waddled her way onto land, dragging her body through the sand, and began to wriggle free of her her skin--which looked easier than it was, for it was a tight fit. She kicked free of it, hissing at how bloody cold it was as a naked, hairless human, grabbed it and rolled it up quickly, and then scrambled for her clothes to dress.