With everyone else distracted, you enter the mess hall and start loading up on food from the cafe line. Most of the other girls are quiet as you enter, a few looking nervous. You glance in their direction, and they back away.
Good, you think to yourself.
As you set your tray down at one table, Rachel enters the hall. With a quick scan of the room, she spots you and approaches. "You're in trouble." Outside the sunlight pierces through, as it starts its sunset.
"Why?" you muttered. "Ms. Medic going to blow more hot air in my direction?"
"No," she said. "I think you did inject some of the werewolf blood, and I am pretty damn sure it is affecting you."
You sigh. "I feel fine. Just let me eat."
"That wolf walked right up to you. Your aggression levels have been going up. You were on the verge of laughing when Jenny had her arm half torn off. Is any of this registering with you as odd?"
"If I have my horror stories right, I think you should be more worried about her," you say back lazily, taking a few more bites of the chicken with mac'n'cheese. It was a shame they didn't have a good rare steak available. You wonder if raw is any better.
"You need help," she persisted. The smell of fear was building on her. "I think several of us do at this point."
Another wash of energy comes over you. Your clothes feel a tiny bit more tight. In the not-so-distant woods, a few wolves howl. A part of you just wants to devour the meal and then go off and do something else, anything: hunt, run, find a boy's camp somewhere nearby.
"Are you listening to me?" Rachel asks, leaning towards you. She smells better than the chicken. Your fingernails appear a little longer and pointier than before.