You somehow faintly recognize the scent and it excites something deep inside, provoking mixed emotions of curiosity and lust. Both sexual and bloodlust mixed together. Before you realize what you are doing, you find yourself crawling through the open window and stealthily making your way down the fire escape and into the darkened alley. The ease at which you do this surprises the still-human part of your mind as it went along for the ride. The night is cool but you barely notice thanks to your new winter coat catching and shifting in the breeze causing a shiver at the unexpected sensation. You crouch in the shadows peering out from the alley as again you catch the scent. Nothing moves except for the involuntary subtle twitch of your moistened noise and pointed ears as they track the footsteps as their source rounds the corner and comes into your sight. Both the beast and the human in you had hoped for this, but now that your vision confirms it, the excitement swells. The female is your coworker, Becky. The serendipity of this situation is not lost on you, bestial or otherwise. You couldn't have written a better happenstance. Luck favors you tonight in many ways.
As the female pauses under a streetlight to fumble for something in her expensive purse, you have a moment of human clarity as your mind flashes to recount what she is to you. What she is is a rival. Always taking any chance to belittle your work or one-up you at the online media company you both work at. Her superior attitude an annoyance to all but your editor, Rick. A simpleminded male who falls for her subtle flirting and low-cut tops to give her the juiciest assignments and place her stories front and center with barely a note or word change. You catch yourself softly growling at the thought and muscles tensing. Ready to pounce. Begging to pounce. Wanting to see blood. To taste her blood and make her pay for the time she smirked at you and disengenuously said "sorry" as she walked past your desk from Rick's office after getting the promotion you had been killing yourself for. But wait...
Another part of you, the wolf part, has another plan. In the next instant, as you settle yourself, you sniff again at the female's scent and consider the body still not 30 feet from you as she finally extracts the phone from her purse and begins furiously tapping away. Even with a jacket on you can still make out her lithe form. Sculpted from daily gym sessions and vegan diets. "Damn spa cancelling my waxing appointment at the last minute," you hear Becky mutter in frustration. You find yourself feeling inescapable, primal lust towards her. Her shapely ass and still exposed cleavage. Sure you've always hated to admit you found her attractive before despite being a total bitch but now you find her body and bitchiness irresistible. In fact you want to make her an actual bitch. Oh yes, your werewolf side has an interesting take on revenge and the means to carry it out. Both sides of your being are united now in one desire and mission: to make Becky howl like only a true bitch can. To watch her manicured body slowly become bestial like you. And best of all, to make her join your pack and submit to your will and desires. After all, she'll have no choice in the matter. The logic, if you can call it that, feels pure and natural and right as your mind clouds back letting baser instinct take the forefront. The surrounding area is clear. Female is alone. It's time.
Tensing once again but with clearer purpose this time, you spring into action while Becky is still distracted, putting her phone back in her purse. You effortlessly close the distance between you both as padded paw-like hands and feet barely make a sound. 15 feet. 5 feet. A third leap this time with fangs and claws bared you collide with Becky, knocking her back into the dimly lit alley behind her. "Oh my god! What the..." you hear her scream directly into your sensitive ears before you both violently attain impact with the hard concrete behind a dumpster. Her body lies helplessly unconscious with your heaving massive body panting on top. You instantly fulfill your purpose sinking fangs that were but mere human canines not an hour ago into her exposed neck. You lick the wound for good measure as your cursed saliva mixes with her blood sealing her fate. You involuntarily feel the need to announce your victory by raising your bloodied maw to the sky, shutting your eyes, and bellowing a long howl into the night air.
As you finish howling, the world again falls into the relative silence of a city at night. You hear the sound of some windows shutting. Neighbors surely blaming the noise on a stray dog. You climb off of Becky and rest on your haunches as some semblance of logical thought seeps back in. What to do now? You hadn't considered past this part. You sniff with curiousity at Becky's still unconscious and lightly bleeding body wondering if or when she might smell different. Having unknowably acquired lycanthropy yourself just tonight, you realize you have no idea if she would start changing immediately, slowly over the course of the next month, or if at all.