"Ah, it is," Carlisle replies, stiffening at the thought he might have somehow painted a poor image of his uncle, as though he'd ever think to grant his nephew a gift with a lackluster enchantment. "It is a fine one, obviously, and- and admittedly, better suited for me than many gifts, considering my, um. Considering I have no inclination toward fighting, or hunting, or anything of the sort."

He's a coward, in other words, and he's well aware of it. He would rather run and hide than draw a weapon, so why not hide as a beast that many were not brave enough to challenge in the first place?

"I believe, however, were he to have his preference, he would have given me a weapon. A wand, maybe, or a staff like his own. Every Longinmouth for as long as we can remember was given one for their Hunt, save for me. And he always did complain that the maces of my order were ill-fitting for someone who showed any real talent for magic."