A/N: Inspired by The Writer's Table's February 2019 Drabble Challenge.
Oz opened his eyes as day broke in the small mountainside community where he had spent the last few months. Birds trilled their morning-songs, but other than that, the world was still and quiet.
Standing, he unlocked the cage he'd shut himself in and made his way outside. Sunlight streamed through the clouds overhead, and a smile tugged at his mouth as he breathed in the fresh air.
For the first time since Jordy bit him, he had made it through all three nights of a full moon without transforming into a werewolf. The call had still been there, pulling at every cell in his body. But between the herbs and meditative techniques the Tibetan monks had taught him, he'd had the power to resist the urge.
He had a long way to go, but he could finally see a future where he was able to master his baser instincts.
A future where he could return home to Sunnydale – to Willow.