All at once Hawk became aware of a hiss in the room, and of something near his face--he brought his hand up, finding that it was a pale light smoky sort of something, full of noise, emanating from his eyes and nose and mouth. He then realized that, around the tips of his fingers, he could see the faint outlines of talons.
"Shit," he whispered, and looked up. The room had gone strangely colorless. The shapes of Janis and the unconscious figure on the couch were limned in a weird multicolored light. The black smoke that the unconscious person had been breathing was gone, and now a pale cloud was rising from their face--like the stuff around Hawk's face, but greener, and shapeless.
"W-wait," Hawk said hesitantly, leaning forward. As he did, the hissing became one tone which at first rose and fell slowly, but then--as something made him look over the couch--oscillated faster and faster until it as all one note ringing in his ears.
Sitting on something behind the couch was the owl, sort of. It crouched there, an arrangement of plain shapes, but pale multicolored images of it swam at its edges, as though it was off-register somehow. Bits of it sheared together as it looked back at him and moved its head around in a way that left images of itself behind. Then it came towards him, somehow, and got bigger as it came. By the time it was pulling itself up onto the back of the couch (an action that Janis seemed unaware of) it didn't look much like an owl anymore. It had stretched out its neck, which split along the bottom into a pair of crude jaws, and its body was only vaguely bird-shaped now.
Hawk rose slightly, staring it in the face, his wings half-open. It was as big as he was now.