The horses moved steadily beneath them, the rhythm of their hooves the only sound that accompanied the peaceful silence between Penelope and Anthony. The sky stretched endlessly above them, a vast canvas of blue, and the breeze, warm and full of the scent of pine, tugged at Penelope's red hair, sending it streaming back like a ribbon in the wind. She was a picture of effortless beauty, her laughter light and infectious as she glanced over at her brother, her face glowing in the afternoon sun.
Anthony's gaze lingered on her for a moment,he was happy he could put a smile on her face.
She was beautiful, but she was more than beautiful . There was a fierce, untamed spirit in her that she has, something wild and free that matched the landscape around them.
As they reached the edge of the forest, both horses slowed, their riders feeling the fatigue of a long ride. The peaceful tension of the day seemed to give way to the thrill of the hunt, a shared tradition between them. Penelope's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Let's make it interesting," she said, already sliding off her horse. Her voice was playful, but there was a challenge in it that Anthony couldn't resist.
"Oh? How so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, already knowing her too well.
She grinned mischievously, unstrapping the hunting knives from her belt and handing one to him. "We'll hunt, but there's a catch. No wolves,as I do not have a wolf yet .We'll do it the old-fashioned way."
Anthony took the knife with a smile. "Agreed. The first one back with a catch wins."
With a quick laugh, Penelope turned and disappeared into the woods, her movements fluid and swift. Anthony watched her go for a moment, knowing she would be relentless in the chase. He followed at a slower pace, savoring the quiet, knowing it would only be a matter of time before he'd be caught in the wild energy of their game.
Hours passed. The sun had dipped lower in the sky when Penelope finally emerged from the woods, a rabbit clutched triumphantly in her hands. Her breath was shallow, her chest heaving with excitement as she sprinted back to the clearing. But when she stepped into the open, the sight that greeted her was enough to freeze her blood.
The clearing was scattered with bodies—lifeless, crumpled forms of men, their blood staining the ground beneath them. Her eyes immediately found Anthony, lying weakly on the earth, his face pale and battered. Above him, a figure loomed, a man with a dagger raised, poised to strike at Anthony's heart.
Fear twisted in her chest, but there was no time for hesitation. Without a second thought, she dropped her catch to the ground and pulled the dagger from her belt, her movements instinctive. Silent as a shadow, she sprinted toward the man, her heart pounding. She leaped onto his back, her hands grabbing onto his shoulders with an iron grip. He staggered, caught off guard, but Penelope was faster.
Before he could react, her dagger flashed, sinking deep into his chest. Again and again she struck, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she drove the blade into him, her movements precise, relentless. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless, before she even realized what she had done.
She didn't waste a moment. Penelope rushed to Anthony's side, her eyes scanning his battered form. Her hands shook as she helped him to his feet, her voice trembling as she asked the question that burned in her throat.
"Who are they?" Her heart pounded, the gravity of the situation slowly sinking in.
"The humans," Anthony answered hoarsely, his voice strained, but steady. His eyes flickered toward the setting sun, then to the full moon that now hung in the sky, casting an eerie light over the woods. "We need to leave. It's not safe."
Penelope nodded, her mind racing. It was too late to make it back to the village. The air felt wrong, thick with something she couldn't name. She looked down at her hands, her nails—no, her claws—darkening, sharpening, growing longer.
"Anthony… something's wrong," she whispered, her voice heavy with unease as she moved backward
He turned to her, his eyes widening with realization. "It's your transition, Penelope," he said softly. "You just killed a man. It's starting."
Her stomach lurched. She had always known this moment would come, but she had never been ready. *Not like this.* The feeling inside her, the change—it was coming faster now, pushing at the edges of her control.
"You have to do this," Anthony said, his voice firm but filled with empathy. "I'm here. But this is something you have to face alone."
Penelope's breath hitched as the change began. It was as if her bones had been replaced by fire. She doubled over, clutching her sides, but there was no stopping it now. The first crack split through her spine, followed by another, sharper, as her bones stretched, elongated, rearranging themselves in ways she couldn't comprehend. A scream tore from her throat, raw and desperate, echoing through the night.
"I can't," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as her body twisted, reshaping in ways that made her feel as though she was being torn apart. "Help me, please!"
"I can't," Anthony said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "You have to do it. You're strong, Penelope. Stronger than you know."
Her body arched as her face stretched forward, her nose elongating into a snout, her gums splitting as fangs grew sharp and deadly. Pain crashed through her with every heartbeat, every breath. Her vision blurred as her hands—no, her claws—sprouted thick, dark fur.
Penelope's breath was shallow, her mind racing, but something inside her—*something wild*—was fighting for dominance. Her humanity, slipping away like sand through her fingers, screamed for her to hold on.
Then, as if in a final plea, she gripped her head, her fingers brushing against her fur as her senses sharpened to a razor's edge.
"Who are you?"penelope asked has she heard a voice in her head which was not hers.
The voice came from somewhere deep, primal, as the wolf began to assert its control. Panic surged in her chest. "No. Not yet."
Her vision darkened, and the last thing she saw before the world blacked out was Anthony's worried face, his hand reaching for her. But it was too late.
Immediately, Penelope collapsed. Her eyes fluttered open, but the world around her was not familiar. She was somewhere else—*nowhere*, in particular. The space was vast, endless, and pure white, stretching in every direction without a hint of a boundary.
She pushed herself up, her legs trembling slightly as she stood. But the agony that had wracked her body just moments ago was gone. There was no pain, no burning, no shifting. Just silence, heavy and still.
Then, out of the emptiness, a figure appeared before her. A wolf.
Penelope froze, her breath catching in her throat. The creature was magnificent—its fur sleek and black, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. For a moment, she could only stare, mesmerized by its beauty, its presence.
In a daze, she took a hesitant step forward. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper as she drew closer.
The wolf circled her, its movements graceful and predatory. "I'm you," it said, its voice low and full of an ancient wisdom.
Penelope's heart pounded in her chest. "What do you mean?" she asked, confused.
"You have to let me in, Penelope," the wolf said. Its form shifted, transforming into a perfect replica of her own body, standing before her with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.
The wolf—*or was it herself?*—stepped closer, its eyes unwavering. "Our mate needs us," it said softly.
Before Penelope could respond, the wolf—or the woman—wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a deep, unrelenting embrace. Penelope's mind whirled, but she could no longer focus. Everything around her went *blank*, swallowed by the sudden rush of emptiness.
And then, just as quickly, the world faded completely.