Quickening my pace I cast furtive glances into the shadows surrounding me. I see nothing but I can hear them, chattering to each other in short, otherworldly barks. I can feel their hunger gnawing at me. They are eager to taste me, rip into my flesh, release my blood to quench their insatiable thirst. 

I am running now, I can hear their panting, they are close. Their hot breath kisses my neck, urging me to look back. I cannot give in for to do so is to die. Branches slice through my flesh, block my path, slow me down. In only a moment they will have me.

I stumble and fall. They are on top of me now. I can feel their teeth, sharp and long, slicing through me, my blood flowing into their mouths as they gleefully consume me. I cannot protect myself from ivory fangs and jagged claws; uselessly I fight, overpowered by a hunger primal and raw.

My body is changing, even as they devour me, the full Moon imbuing me with lycanthropic form. My bones crack and splinter, reforming themselves as I thrash on the ground, those ivory fangs ripping into flesh that grows thicker and is covered with fur. As my teeth develop into vicious fangs, and my hands into wickedly clawed paws I fight harder, strength pouring into me. I thrust them off of me. They stand around me, panting, pacing, blood dripping from their teeth, watching me as I become one of them.

The pain is excruciating, agonizing, takes my breath and scatters stars before my eyes but soon it is over. Slowly I stand, putting weight on new legs, seeing the world through new eyes. Everything is sharper, clearer, sounds and smells amplified a thousand times. I flex and stretch my new muscles, much stronger than my human form. I pull my lips back in a macabre smile, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. I turn to look at my destroyers, now my companions, my pack. My stomach rumbles, I am hungry. Without a sound we turn and melt into the night.

It is time to hunt.