They had promised to help you, promised to fix you. They had lied. For weeks they had fed you things that made you ill, things they claimed would weaken the curse long enough for the cure to take place. Now you know them for what they really are. Poisons.
They had been feeding you poisons specifically meant for werewolves, knowing very well that you would be left too weak to fully transform on your first full moon. Their “cure”, their “help”, was weakening you to a point that you couldn’t fight back, and then dumping you into another wolfs territory.
You had grown up hearing terrifying things about werewolves, about how they would kill anything in sight on the full moon, how they would hunt anything that smelt weak or human and rip it to shreds with sickening pleasure. They were aggressive, monstrous, evil, barbaric, creatures. That’s that you had always been told.
In a twisted way they were fulfilling their promise they made when you came home crying, a fresh bite marring your shoulder. After tonight, you definitely wouldn’t be a werewolf anymore…. you wouldn’t be much of anything. With their poisons, they had ensured that there was no way for you to make it out of this alive, not once the owner of this territory found you.
As the moon began to rise, you felt waves of agony start rolling over your already weak and injured form, ripping helpless screams of pain from your throat. It felt like forever until it ended, though you could tell that it was wrong, that you hadn’t fully changed, thanks to the taint in your blood.
You laid there, weak as a newborn kitten as your chest rose and fell shakily, soft pathetic whines and whimpers slipping from your inhuman throat. Your poor heart damn near stopped as you heard the branches crack, and saw those glowing eyes peering out at you.
Slowly, a massive werewolf stalked out of the darkness of the trees, it’s eyes never leaving yours as it slowly closed the distance. Some distant part of your new instincts urged you to flee or bare your throat in submission, but you could do neither, whining in fear and pain as the creature came to a stop looming above you.
You waited, certain you were about to be torn to pieces, but minutes passed, and nothing happened. Slowly, its large muzzle lowered, and it gently nosed your weak unmoving form, carefully inspecting the wounds you had been given, and the tainted scent of poison that practically oozed from your deformed body.
With a loud huffing sound, the wolf abruptly laid down beside you, partially covering your weakened body with its own as it curled around you, protecting you. Gently it rumbled, nuzzling its nose into your hair with a huff, the meaning clear even to your pain filled distorted mind.
“Safe. Rest.”
