morph v. 1

It is changing, morphing, transforming into anything and everything it’s ever been so rapidly the eye can barely follow.

When I opened my eyes, he had opened a big, brown pair of his own near the holoprint on the wall (a portrait of me before my morph. Red hair, toothy smile, astride my father’s shoulders. My father never morphed, and never understood my choice of vocations.)

We’re going to morph together into a single bioform and move into one of the hull casings.

The critic’s head was morphing like a barber pole on the slender pillar of her tanned and elegant neck.

A symbiotic shape-shifter. Intuitively, they understand your needs and morph into the shape that most pleases you.

It wobbled very slightly as he stepped aboard. Seats morphed and rearranged themselves for the two non-human shapes.

For purposes of combat, our tails are equipped with a deadly sharp blade. But it is our ability to morph, to transform into other creatures, that makes our species the envy of the galaxy.

Trailing a little behind me, Borne was a large rock that bumbled to a stop, soundless, when I looked back. Almost stealthy. [...] Soon I was no longer being followed be a rock but by a giant undulating worm [...] The lizard morphed back into a rock, close enough now that I didn’t have to shout to talk to it. ‘Borne. I can see you. You came out here with me. I know that it’s you.’ Silence. ‘Borne. You’ve been a rock, a worm, a fly, and now a lizard. Do you think I’m stupid? Even if I hadn’t brought you out here?’ The rock moved from side to side a little.