I feel like a monster [Open!]
WHO: Daine, and anyone who feels like dealing with a feral mountain lion
WHAT: Fallout of a werecurse
WHERE: The city fringes, eventually the jungle
WHEN: Day 155
She was shifting, and couldn’t stop it. Somewhere, Daine knew she had to run; the jungle made her uncomfortable. This whole place was too hot. The Wildmage hurt all over, the shift coming in uncontrollably. She was scared.
There was no cursed blood, nothing that could’ve dominated her senses so utterly.
But there within her was an urge to run, get away from this stone prison. She had enough sanity to run, half shifted, clothes tearing rather than slipping off her body. Her half-animal mind didn’t care anymore. She needed to get away from this overpowering stench of humanity.
Her claws tore into the page her human side had remembered to take as she fled, both for her own safety, and the two-leggers’. Pain wracked her body and Daine paused at an intersection, completely overcome with the transformation.
Where once a curly-haired girl stood, a ferociously uncontrollable mountain lion crouched, growling over the pages of the journal, golden eyes alight with the need for a hunt.
The last traces of the lion’s humanity shuddered under the weight of the animal’s mind.
Monster. Filth. They had called her such, then, and she was back, the insanity covering her senses. Anger. They had killed her mother. It was their fault. They regretted nothing. She had shown them how wrong they’d been.
With one more furious growl, the very last traces of Daine the Wildmage succumbed to the mountain lion.
Need to hunt. Get away from this stone prison.
WHAT: Fallout of a werecurse
WHERE: The city fringes, eventually the jungle
WHEN: Day 155
She was shifting, and couldn’t stop it. Somewhere, Daine knew she had to run; the jungle made her uncomfortable. This whole place was too hot. The Wildmage hurt all over, the shift coming in uncontrollably. She was scared.
There was no cursed blood, nothing that could’ve dominated her senses so utterly.
But there within her was an urge to run, get away from this stone prison. She had enough sanity to run, half shifted, clothes tearing rather than slipping off her body. Her half-animal mind didn’t care anymore. She needed to get away from this overpowering stench of humanity.
Her claws tore into the page her human side had remembered to take as she fled, both for her own safety, and the two-leggers’. Pain wracked her body and Daine paused at an intersection, completely overcome with the transformation.
Where once a curly-haired girl stood, a ferociously uncontrollable mountain lion crouched, growling over the pages of the journal, golden eyes alight with the need for a hunt.
The last traces of the lion’s humanity shuddered under the weight of the animal’s mind.
Monster. Filth. They had called her such, then, and she was back, the insanity covering her senses. Anger. They had killed her mother. It was their fault. They regretted nothing. She had shown them how wrong they’d been.
With one more furious growl, the very last traces of Daine the Wildmage succumbed to the mountain lion.
Need to hunt. Get away from this stone prison.