"Yeah, no thanks." Leona frowns, pushing the offered bottle and backing away from the milk. "I had the worst initial experience with that stuff so I have to pass." She smiles though, meaning no harm. You smile in return as you tuck the bottle of shrinking milk back into the bag. "Sure, suit yourself."
You walk to the sleeping werewolf, inspecting it even further. The dart had been emptied out of its contents and considering its size that meant the dart was supposed to keep this werewolf under for quite a long time. Though, it confuses you. "Why do they need to tranquilize this werewolf here?" You walk around the creature, noting its massive frame and furred body slowly rising and falling with its breathing. "Wouldn't it be easier to just snuff it out?" You look to Leona, inquiring her opinion. "Because this guy had literally no scrap of humanity in him when I first met him."
Leona stared on, watching the werewolf. Her eyes light up when she figured something out. "A guard dog."
"A what?" You incredulously stare at her, and she looks back to you.
"A guard dog, someone tranquilized him here and left him to guard something. Probably shot him and then continued on to hide their stuff." You stare at her, amazed at her insight.
"Though it seems to have been quite long ago since the dart is empty..." She mutters the last word slowly when her realization kicked in. The rattling and scratching of the door about fifty feet behind you reminding you of this beast's ferocity.
The both of you stare at each other, silenced by realization. You begin to back off slowly, not wishing to arouse the beast.
Leona however was not as lucky, as her snake hissed and the beast tensed.
"Seriously?"
Yellow eyes snapped open and Leona had no chance to scamper away when a furry grasp locked her in place. She screams when the werewolf tugs on her leg with considerable force, displacing her. But she acted quick, slamming her paw into the werewolf's face prompting him to let go.
You were not standing around either but in your shock and, in your defense, you were not a fighter.
You are a runner.
"Run!" Leona screams, galloping clumsily as she headed into the darkness, her form disappearing into the veil. You hear her trip. "Dammit!" Her voice reverberated somewhere from the northeast before quick feet stood up and the sounds of a locked door rattling from the distance.
You turn to follow Leona, only to feel the werewolf pounce on you. The transformation swapping sword clatters out of your hands ringing as it slides on the cold stone floor. Flat on your stomach, you could feel the slimy ooze clinging to your body. It was forgotten however when the werewolf howled a primal, spine chilling howl, pressing your wings flat against the floor futilely trying to flap. In your petrified state, you were snapped out of it by the most painful feeling you had ever felt when the werewolf dug its teeth deep into your shoulder.
You screamed in absolute pain, feeling the beast rip out a chunk out of your shoulder as he gulped it all down. You buck as strong as you could, but the werewolf was too heavy. All hope seemed to drain out of your shoulders.
"GET OFF OF HIM!" Leona shouts a battle cry as she lunged, punching the werewolf in the bloody face. Now with the weight off your shoulders, literally, you turn over, suddenly angry.
You stand, seeing the werewolf smack Leona away. Her fur protected her against scratches as she dodged with grace and agility. Until of course, she tripped, again.
The werewolf lunged at a possible prey, but you were already there. It all seemed to be a haze, a dream through the extreme pain in your shoulders. The sword was already in your grip as you swing with the intention of at least crippling him.
The moment the sword nicked into his skin, a flash of light blinds your sight, whiting out your mind. You knew you had swapped forms with the werewolf, but you never experienced first hand of their strength. All you knew about them was through myths and fairytales.
As the light quickly fades, the first thing your improved eyesight notices was the bulky, fur covered arm with rough, clawed hands holding the sword. It was as if in slow motion, as the sword that is now fueled by mythical strength easily cleaves through the winged man, splitting his midsection cleanly in half.
The man split in half flops onto the disgusting floor, entrails splurging out onto the floor as his stomach acids sizzle the ooze and blood as it flowed. His lower body unnervingly sat a distance from the upper body. The sweet scent of blood seeps into your nose, riling you up.
Still within a dream-like state, you, now a beast of prey 2ft taller and impressively more built, stalked towards the upper half of the winged man, the person still growling and wildly writhing. By a mixed impulse of end his misery and a much more primal, wild and untamed instinct of finish the hunt combined into one, you stab the man in the eye socket, the sword piercing his brain and ending his life.
Another flash of light fills your improved eyes, blinding you. A slight weight settles on your back, a familiar weight and the sounds of leathery wings familiarizing again. The pain in your shoulder recedes, as if the wound was never there.
You expect to have returned the werewolf form to the man once more, but to your dismay it hadn't, affirmed by your clawed and black furred hands of yours. The man cut in half stayed human, but even he had lost his wings.
Somehow, you had stolen both.
A retched smell assaults your sensitive nose eliciting a gruff whimper from you, stronger than the ambient ooze and the sweet scent of blood on the floor. It was coming from none other than the corpse of your doing. You snap out of your state, finally realizing what you had done.
You look to it, and saw the most bizarre phenomenon that was never seen in the castle. The body began to rot rapidly, aging through his years. As he entered his hundreds, his flesh rots away into dust, before his bones crumbled as well. The now crusted blood remained, a reminder.
A mark.
Your oddly full stomach lurched in nausea as you throw up your oddly full stomach and the guilt in your heart. Liquid expulsions exits your serrated maw, before half digested meat followed suit. It was only then that you notice that the meat was none other than your shoulder's.
You feel sick.
Disgusted.
Guilty.
As your stomach empties itself out of your own flesh and causing you to dry heave instead, you look to Leona.
Her heart quickens, her breath hitched. You feel a predatory instinct within your core rile for the hunt.
But you shrug it off.
You weakly give her a smile, trying to show her that you're still in here. That you won't rend her to pieces as well.
She stops shuffling backwards, as your smile had been terrifying, but reassuring as well.
You stumble towards her, your wings limp and dragging you down.
As your consciousness fades into oblivion and your senses fail you, a furry paw cradles your head, and right now you are just grateful to have her by your side.