Preface

The moon is lopsided, drinking up the sun's reflection and casting it down into the murky forests. Rays of light peer through the thick trees and bushes that shroud me in otherwise complete darkness.

My bones ache and groan with seemingly eternal pain. When I lick my lips I can feel the slightest tip of my canines; they've sharpened and elongated sometime in the past few hours. Every scent, every sound, even the taste of the fog is heightened to astronomical proportions.

I hear the snap of a branch from afar. A growl escapes my throat. Before I know it I'm hurling myself into the air. The sharp cracking of my bones makes me howl in agony and I can feel my skin seemingly shred to pieces. The brisk fall air is replaced with fur bristling at the top of my skin. My hands turn into paws; my nails go from a glassy state to rough, obsidian claws.

My only strand to humanity is the occasional thought that comes off as remarkably un-wolfish. But otherwise I am no longer Marlane Grace Clarkston.

I am a werewolf, whose only allegiance is to the night.

Reviews

[OT]

Quite intriguing, I'd like to read more. Good amount of detail and very good flow.

[Eileenws]

I like the change to the werewolf. Very descriptive and very mysterious. Nicely done.

[Rococopay]

For a preface this has rather good detail, I don't see that a lot so kudos to you! The description you give paints a very clear picture.