The changes were coming so quickly. Oz grit his teeth and tried desperately not to transform. Control it, control it. He told himself. It was no use. Minutes later he was on all fours, howling and rattling the old, but sturdy cage that he'd trapped himself in. Blood lust consumed his thoughts and frantically he tried to escape and feed the wanting within him. No use.
The next morning, the old monks shuffled in and wordlessly, let the naked, tired man out. He looked up at them. "Next time." He said, standing. "I'll make Willow proud…Next time. I know it."