Willow stood on all four of her wolf legs, feeling awkward in that strange and unfamiliar body. The sensation of moving from one species to a completely different one was almost impossible to explain. But if she were forced to explain, she would liken it to waking up from a dream or entering into one, depending on which form she chose to see as her true form.
Meanwhile he felt an even stranger sensation, which was that he saw the world very differently with his wolf senses than when he was human. His nose and ears were so much sharper than before that it was truly overwhelming. It was like wearing sunglasses for hours and then suddenly taking them off to realize how bright the world really was.
He turned his gaze to the werewolves gathered around the campfire, and he found all eyes on him. Boris was so surprised by his transformation that he must have forgotten all about Lowell's orders to kill Luke. But Willow hadn't forgotten. And now she could actually do something to prevent that. She wanted to lunge at the big werewolf. Wanted to bite his neck and rip out his throat. He had to die.
But before Willow could move, her new ears were filled with the sound of Lowell's laughter.
She turned her gaze to the cruel werewolf, feeling hatred fill her chest at the sight of the smug grin on his face.
"Well, what have we got here?" Lowell crossed his arms. "Looks like
our little blaster has more of his father's traits than we thought. It's great that you can change. I actually expected that."
A menacing growl escaped Willow's wolf lips and she took a step towards Lowell. Looking at him through her new eyes, Willow found herself no longer intimidated by him. She could now see how cowardly and pathetic Lowell was for preying on those weaker than him. He only cared about how to amass power, with no regard for the people he hurt in the process.
Willow would not be his prey anymore. She was not weak anymore. This new body gave her strength she never thought she had.
"Willow, run!" shouted Luke. "You can move faster in wolf form. Run, Willow!"
"Shut up!" Boris grabbed Luke by the neck to stop him talking. "You have no right to tell her what to do, Luke. She belongs to Lowell. You're destined to die any minute now."
"True," Lowell said. "But I don't mind if Willow tries to escape. She'll leave you with us, Luke. You're hopeless. Then Willow's bound to get caught. Sooner or later." Lowell turned to Willow. "Well, you can run now, Willow. Try to move as fast as you can. Never mind that Luke is with us."
Willow, however, was undeterred. She didn't think about running away and leaving Luke behind. She snarled at Lowell, exposing her sharp fangs.
"Well, well. You don't want to run away. All right, I get it." Lowell's grin faded. "Well, you do look like a werewolf. Then let's test your skills." Then he too changed, taking the form of a large black wolf with a slender but muscular body. He growled at Willow's wolf, and then crouched low.
Had Willow known more about werewolves, she would have anticipated his next move, but she was completely clueless and didn't have enough time to react before Lowell leapt forward and lunged at her. They both rolled over the side of the woodpile, battered and bruised as they bounced.
Willow landed hard on the ground, clawing at the air. Then Lowell reappeared, towering over her. He pinned Willow in place with one foot, his jaw open and ready to strike. But Willow was ready this time. She moved her head to the side just as Lowell lunged forward to bite her neck. So the vicious werewolf's snout slumped to the ground, his mouth full of mud and grass.
While Lowell dusted himself off from the scattered dirt and grass, Willow took the opportunity to roll to the side and straighten her four legs, trying to move away and get ready for a new attack. She turned to face her opponent.
Willow noticed that none of the five werewolves loyal to Lowell had intervened. Boris still had a firm grip on Luke, holding him in place, but
he and the other four were just watching the fight, apparently content to wait and see who the winner was.
Willow wondered for a moment what they would do if he won. Would they run away from the place and finally leave her with Luke alone. However, she quickly dispelled that fantasy, as danger was still on the horizon.
As soon as Lowell recovered, he lunged forward, his claws tearing into the muddy ground and foam dripping from his fangs. Willow lunged back. Standing on their hind legs, the two wolves clashed teeth and claws. Biting and wrestling while each tried to make the other show their vulnerable belly or neck. The first one to grab his opponent by the neck would almost certainly win. Willow couldn't let Lowell do it.
Although she learned quickly that she could match Lowell in strength and speed, Willow was well aware that she didn't have the experience or skill that Lowell had. That fact put her at a disadvantage.
Her movements were clumsy compared to Lowell's, and because of that Lowell could guess every move Willow made. It was almost like he could read Willow's mind. Willow was a newborn werewolf after all. This was her first time in wolf form, so it was like facing two opponents at once. One opponent was Lowell, and the other was herself, who was uncoordinated and inexperienced.
That weakness began to show as the fight progressed. Lowell was beating her, not with brute strength, but by expending less energy to do all the same things he was. Willow's energy was drained. The more tired and sluggish her movements, the more prone she was to making mistakes. One wrong move could mean life or death, one mistake could cause enormous problems.
If she let this continue, defeat was inevitable. He had to find a way to change his position to gain the upper hand. It wasn't like he could win in a fight on the field like this, so he had to change his strategy. Before it was too late.
While locked in a fierce wrestling match with Lowell, Willow spotted the lumber mill out of the corner of her eye. The mill might help, she thought. Maybe she could jump in there. She had to do it, now or never. She just needed to wait for the right opportunity, then she would jump. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long.
Willow, however, was undeterred. She didn't think about running away and leaving Luke behind. She snarled at Lowell, exposing her sharp fangs.
"Well, well. You don't want to run away. All right, I get it." Lowell's grin faded. "Well, you do look like a werewolf. Then let's test your skills." Then he too changed, taking the form of a large black wolf with a slender but muscular body. He growled at Willow's wolf, and then crouched low.
Had Willow known more about werewolves, she would have anticipated his next move, but she was completely clueless and didn't have enough time to react before Lowell leapt forward and lunged at her. They both rolled over the side of the woodpile, battered and bruised as they bounced.
Willow landed hard on the ground, clawing at the air. Then Lowell reappeared, towering over her. He pinned Willow in place with one foot, his jaw open and ready to strike. But Willow was ready this time. She moved her head to the side just as Lowell lunged forward to bite her neck. So the vicious werewolf's snout slumped to the ground, his mouth full of mud and grass.
While Lowell dusted himself off from the scattered dirt and grass, Willow took the opportunity to roll to the side and straighten her four legs, trying to move away and get ready for a new attack. She turned to face her opponent.
Willow noticed that none of the five werewolves loyal to Lowell had intervened. Boris still had a firm grip on Luke, holding him in place, but
he and the other four were just watching the fight, apparently content to wait and see who the winner was.
Willow wondered for a moment what they would do if he won. Would they run away from the place and finally leave her with Luke alone. However, she quickly dispelled that fantasy, as danger was still on the horizon.
As soon as Lowell recovered, he lunged forward, his claws tearing into the muddy ground and foam dripping from his fangs. Willow lunged back. Standing on their hind legs, the two wolves clashed teeth and claws. Biting and wrestling while each tried to make the other show their vulnerable belly or neck. The first one to grab his opponent by the neck would almost certainly win. Willow couldn't let Lowell do it.
Although she learned quickly that she could match Lowell in strength and speed, Willow was well aware that she didn't have the experience or skill that Lowell had. That fact put her at a disadvantage.
Her movements were clumsy compared to Lowell's, and because of that Lowell could guess every move Willow made. It was almost like he could read Willow's mind. Willow was a newborn werewolf after all. This was her first time in wolf form, so it was like facing two opponents at once. One opponent was Lowell, and the other was herself, who was uncoordinated and inexperienced.
That weakness began to show as the fight progressed. Lowell was beating her, not with brute strength, but by expending less energy to do all the same things he was. Willow's energy was drained. The more tired and sluggish her movements, the more prone she was to making mistakes. One wrong move could mean life or death, one mistake could cause enormous problems.
If she let this continue, defeat was inevitable. He had to find a way to change his position to gain the upper hand. It wasn't like he could win in a fight on the field like this, so he had to change his strategy. Before it was too late.
While locked in a fierce wrestling match with Lowell, Willow spotted the lumber mill out of the corner of her eye. The mill might help, she thought. Maybe she could jump in there. She had to do it, now or never. She just needed to wait for the right opportunity, then she would jump. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long.
He just had to bide his time and wait for the right moment. If he left too soon or too late, his plan would fail and he would most likely leave himself at Lowell's mercy. That could mean death. So Willow waited. And she waited warily.
Then just as she saw the first of Lowell's forelegs come into view, she lunged out from her hiding place and bit his leg, causing Lowell to whimper in pain and recoil, allowing him to be dragged out from behind the old woodpile.
***