[i]- - - Fendros - - -[/i]

He could only see the ground. A few stones here and there. Blades of grass scrunched by his tense hands in front of him. He observed everything to try and distract from the sudden nausea. Everything almost went dark as another coughing fit started. He felt as if his bones would fall apart if he so much as moved an inch, so he tried not to cough, but it was futile. Eventually he regained control and stared at the ground again. A cool sensation flowed down his chin and a drop of blood fell away, disappearing into the dirt as it reached it.

In the corner of his vision he could see the unnatural beast that he had barely managed to kill before he could be torn apart by it. A wolf-like creature with long arms that ended in fearsome claws, and a humanoid shaped torso. It was definitely a werewolf, just as the people of Cheydinhal had been whispering about for the past several months. Fendros was out in a recreational hunt on his own, the kind that he liked to take to get away from his suffocating family and their depthless expectations of him. He had been tracking a deer for most of the day when he was set upon by this creature.

It came out of nowhere. A rustle in the bushes and he turned around to behold its gnashing teeth flying straight towards him. He could barely gasp before he was knocked off his horse and sent flying onto the ground. His horse's screaming neigh could be heard, but it faded behind the vile sound of viscera moving. Fendros struggled upright in time to shoot an arrow at the beast while it was tearing into his by then mutilated mount. The werewolf was hit in its right upper arm. It showed more anger in response than any sort of pain. Fendros had to think fast as its attention was turned to him. He threw down his bow and drew his sword. By using a tree as a barrier between him and the werewolf, Fendros was able to fend it off for a time, but was not quick enough. A misjudged thrust at the beast's neck found its mark without him noticing the left claw of creature come down on his shoulder and rend through his leather armour, the cold met his torso as blood began to flow from the both of them. In the shock of the moment, Fendros wrenched his sword free in a cutting motion, severing most of the creature's head from its body. As the pain of his wounds came through and the werewolf slumped dead on the ground with one last pained canine whine, Fendros dropped to his hands and knees and stared at the ground. There was nothing else in his mind but fear and pain. What afflicted him went beyond the flesh-wounds he had sustained.

Another coughing fit began, but was halted midway by an empty retching. Fendros clenched his eyes shut and pressed his forehead on the ground to try and stop it, but his grip was slipping. He felt parts of his body crack and warp out of shape, unseen, but felt in excruciating detail. His hands clenched through the ground until they were fists holding dirt. The warping contortions intensified and he screamed. He could not tell whether it was his own body making sickening sounds or the rivets and stiches of his clothing coming apart. In the last moment of opening his eyes, Fendros could see his fists through blurry tears; a black fur was sprouting from the back of his hands. The pain continued until it was all Fendros could sense. He continued to try and yell in pain. After a while his yells became constricted and eventually silent.

[i]The pain. Dream. See. Open eyes! Forest. Green. Red. Brown. Blood. Blood smell. Brother blood. Dead brother. More blood. Hunger. Horse blood. Dead horse. Fresh meat! Feed. Not enough. Hear. Birds. Footsteps, no, hoofsteps. Horse? Not horse smell. Deer smell. Hunger. Fresh deer. Follow smell. Hunt deer...[/i]

[i]Run. See deer. Smell deer. Fearful deer. Chase deer. Chase deer! Catch! Feed! Feast! Smell. Different smell. Brother smell. Sister smell. Smell of pack. Howl. Feed more...[/i]

[i]Hunt. Track. Smell. Only small food. Cannot feast. Cannot feed. Cannot chase. Hunt finished. Sleep...[/i]