A young werewolf, Lorelai, ran through the woods, her breathing fast and heart racing. Her bare feet pounding against the ground as she tried her hardest to gain control.

The full moon was shining high above her, an intimidating, beautiful thing. Her fangs grew and her ears twitched, the wind howling loudly.

Then, she froze. You stood merely ten feet away, lost in the night as you let the water of a nearby creek clean the dirt off your hands. Lorelai took a step back, breaking a twig.