In the heart of a vast, ancient forest, where the trees grew tall and the shadows loomed ever darker, a beast prowled. The night air was thick with the scent of earth and leaves, a quiet stillness hanging over the land like a shroud. This was no ordinary night, for the moon hung high in the sky, full and glowing with a silver light that bathed the forest in an eerie glow. It was under this moon that the beast stirred, its form shifting and twisting as the curse took hold.

Sonic, the once carefree and swift hero, had transformed. He was no longer the blue blur that streaked across the land, bringing hope and freedom to those in need. Now, under the influence of the full moon, he had become something else—something dark and primal. His body had grown larger, his muscles bulging beneath coarse, dark fur. His hands and feet were now massive, clawed appendages capable of rending steel, and his eyes glowed with a feral intensity. He was the Werehog, a creature of the night, cursed with an insatiable hunger and a deep, burning rage.

As the transformation completed, Sonic—the Werehog—let out a low, guttural growl that echoed through the forest. He was no longer entirely himself. The beast within him roared to the surface, demanding control, and with each breath, the line between Sonic and the Werehog blurred. Instincts that were foreign to him surged forward—urges to hunt, to claim territory, and to dominate any who dared to challenge him.

Nearby, nestled within the forest's edge, stood a kingdom, its high stone walls bathed in the light of countless torches. The people within lived in uneasy peace, ever wary of the dark woods that surrounded them. They spoke in hushed tones of the creature that roamed the forest, of the glowing eyes that watched from the shadows, and of the howls that pierced the night. The elders warned of the beast that came with the full moon—a creature of terrible strength and fury that could not be reasoned with.