Felicia noticed the weretiger almost instantly. She affixed her attention onto him as she pushed away her ass-length mane of striped hair, studying his mass of muscles and fur, including the dried blood on its shoulder from the wound left unhealed.
Idly, she rubbed her own matching wounded shoulder, now completely covered in thick, lustrous Bengal tiger’s fur to her neck and down almost to her elbow. Her blackened nails were not quite claws, but still were sharp and tapered enough to tear holes in the tips of her useless gloves. Her ears and teeth now bore slight, but growing points. Her entire body itched, both from the tight fit of the suit now a size and a half too small for her growing body, but also from the slow alteration of her normal human peach fuzz into a pelt of fur. She felt her stomach, rubbed her hands delightfully along the new ridges, and swore she was growing six more breasts.
“Felicia? I think they went…” He looked back to see his comrade ignoring him, instead transfixed on the male weretiger hunkered down across the forest path.
“Felicia?” Christopher asked tentatively.
“It’s all right,” she said hoarsely, almost like a growl. “His mate is dead; he wants to claim a new one. He’s just here for me.” She wasn’t frightened at all by the thought. As a human, she’d never wanted a husband or children; as a tigress, the thought of nursing cubs sounded delightful…
Christopher leveled his rifle. “I’ve got a problem with that.”
The weretiger growled, and to Christopher’s surprise, so did Felicia. She bared teeth of predatory sharpness as she twisted back toward her comrade, growling through ripping canines that thickened and grew into deadly daggers as she threatened him. “While I am mated, you will run. Don’t stop…until you find…the otherrrrs.” Her upper lip developed a cleft toward her dark nose as he watched; whiskers began to slowly bud and slide forth from her cheeks.
Christopher felt anchored. “No…I won’t…”
“Stupid human!” Felicia shouted, nearly roared. “I’m…trying to…save yourrrrr…life…”
Felicia bowed her head and growled as her ankles rose, warping her boots into uselessness as her toe claws finally burst through. She whipped her head suddenly up, staring at him through predator’s eyes.
“Gggrrrrr...now…GGGRRRRRRUN!” She doubled over suddenly, grasping her sides and groaning in agony as her body began to swell, tearing swaths in the fabric of her Kevlar as fur and skin and muscle pressed free of the confinement.
Christopher took the chance to run as she began tearing away her suit with her wicked claws, wishing he didn’t have to abandon her. He swore to make her human again, no matter what, as he high-tailed it from the scene.
The weretiger prodded purposefully forth, observing Felicia’s growls of pain and bestiality as her face stretched into a muzzle and a thick tail slid from her spine. She finally let her fight go, and freely roared in pleasure with her final alterations. The fully transformed weretigress that was once Felicia Grady nuzzled her soon-to-be mate as she dropped to all fours and lifted her tail to be mounted.
In the distance, Christopher heard the pleasured and savage roars of two mating tigers, male and female, as he ran for Barry and the team’s coordinates.