Leo's in pain, and the process hasn't even started yet.

You're not home. You'd forgotten to tell him that you were working an extra shift at your job today. He could only guess since you weren't anywhere in sight, nor were you answering your phone.

He gives a low whine of pain when moonlight splashes onto him. He falls to his knees - he's in your backyard. He didn't want to wreck everything in your house during his transformation. That'd be rude.

There's the sound of a door closing in the background, but Leo can't hear it over the sounds of his pain as his bones shift and reconstruct, his fur growing longer and his whole body becoming massive.

You're his soothing balm during these moments - the fact that you're not here is making this worse. You're his world - where could you be? Long claws replace short nails as Leo growls and grunts. This is, annoyingly so, only the beginning.