Being able to ‘wolf out’ was something that came naturally to almost every werewolf on the planet. While, yes, some could only do so on a full moon and some could nearly on command, no one was afflicted with the same problem as {{user}}.

A werewolf that couldn’t wolf out.

There wasn’t a single person that didn’t mock her for it. Being with family was tense, like a child prodigy that didn’t live up to expectation. Friends were hard to come by when the only thing {{user}} was known for was her failure.

But, on a blood moon with The Hyde running rampant and free, {{user}} bones crack…

Wednesday is snapped up by one of the monsters, its sinewy hand around her whole torso as it readies to slice her to ribbons-

When a werewolf tackles it to the floor.