Preface: There's so much on werewolf lore that exists already that's next to impossible to make one assertion in a story that doesn't contradict another. So, to set some things straight, here are the laws of lycanthropy in this universe. One: Lycanthropes are called Lykoi Warriors, or Lykoi for short. It's actually a name I took (with permission) from one of my all time favorite fanfictions. The term werewolf is actually derogatory; think of what it has become nowadays-Twilight anyone? Two: it is possible to go from human to full canine. I know many theories on lycanthropy stop at the anthro-wolf because the idea of the human to wolf transformation is too traumatic on the system, but I mean, come on, you've got to live on the edge a little. Three: In the mind of each Lykoi, there is a wolf aspect and a human aspect. In most situations they balance each other out, but if the Lykoi is too stressed or is in danger, the wolf aspect will take charge and dominate. The eyes will darken to the color of a natural wolf (usually a brownish orange), and the wolf will fight to protect itself.
Accalia Lyall stood stock still; head held level, breath even, she scarcely dared to breathe. In all aspects except one she resembled a cornered animal; her eyes, though, held no fear. And it was good that they didn't, as the pack of wolves that had assembled in a loose semicircle behind her would have torn her to shreds. But, perhaps not before their Alpha, standing before them, staring her down, daring her to show any signs of weakness. Accalia would not be fearful, for she had known this time was coming, had known it for years, and was ready to face it. As the had sun crested over the peak of the mountain,which was her home that morning, she prepared for this moment, ridding herself of all doubts, fears, and worries. As the sun had reached its peak in the sky, she had left her house, leaving the small, leather-bound journal she always toted in her back pocket in a side drawer near her bed, pulling the door of the cabin shut and heading out to the clearing where she knew they'd be waiting.
All of the arrangements for this had been made weeks previous; the location for her trial, the amount of time that was to be given for said trial, and when she was to be considered dead had she not returned. Accalia knew the stakes. She also knew that she, more than anyone else, had something to prove; she had to wipe out the stain her father had cast upon her family, had marked upon the entire pack, and this was the first step in doing so. She had to push herself harder, go farther, become stronger, so that no one would dare challenge her authority. She had to look the the future so no one would dare remark on her past.
And here she was. Her clothes lay in a pile, messy where they had been dropped carelessly; she had never been one for neatness and order, and she was sure they'd be taken care of anyway. But no, she mustn't focus on the little pile clothes, not when the Alpha is staring at her, waiting. Accalia remembers she's supposed to bow, and so she does. The Alpha contemplates the young girl, debating something for a few long moments. The entire ring of wolves waits with baited breath-will there be an attack this time? But no, the moment passes and Nishoba Lyall, Alpha of the Stone River wolf pack, speaks.
"Accalia Lyall, young pup of this pack," Accalia raises her head, fighting down the wolf inside that bristles at being addressed as a pup. Nashoba continues. "We can no longer allow you to be a drain on our resources. Winters are long, and we have many mouths to feed. An overgrown pup is not welcome; you must prove yourself to stay. If you cannot survive on your own, then you are no good to us. Prove to us that you are useful, then you may return. The location of your trial has been chosen, and a route has been selected." Even though Nashoba knew the increased risk of accident befalling her daughter, her face was a stone mask; she did not show emotion as she addressed the young girl before her. She could not.
Accalia continued to stand and say nothing; all of this was a formality, she wasn't hearing anything she didn't already know, and she was itching to go, buring with the desire to prove herself to her packmates. She could feel the burn of their stares on her back and sides, although she felt no shame in her nudity. She had run around naked with these same people since before she could remember, since before even the fuzziest memories with their warm-tinged glow had formed; what was there to be embarrassed about? Even though she wasn't in wolfskin, she thought she could tell a few of them apart, at least those she was especially close to. She could feel the triplets, anxious to get back to roughhousing but held into submission by her mother's iron will. Accalia chuckled mentally as she remembered when she was little and she had to suffer the stern gaze that rendered her silent. Beside the triplets was Kowan, the babysitter of the pack. He had always told the best stories, and she still needed to learn how to make those marshmallow brownies of his. And all the way over on the far left, just at the edge of her periphery, was Himina. Himina was the herbalist, a poor tempered young woman who had Marie Antoinette's Syndrome that gave her a shock of white hair at only 23. Even though most of the other pack gave her a wide berth on the best of days, Accalia couldn't help but enjoy the mental squabbles they got into; Himina kept her on her toes.
"Are you ready?" Nashoba asked, taking Accalia's silence for acceptance. She nodded and took a single breath in, preparing herself for her world to change.
She felt it in her hands and feet first, a tingling sensation that shot up her arms and legs as her fingers and toes began to melt and fold in on themselves. As her arms and legs began to thin and elongate, her spine contorted, shifting from the upright shape of a human to that of the four-legged wolf. Her face stretched, her mouth pulling forward into a muzzle, her teeth sharpening into points. Her ears rose on her skull as fur sprouted all across her flesh, blanketing her in a silvery white coat that became darker as it reached toward her spine. As she finished her transformation, she shook herself from nose tip to tail, much like she was shaking off water.
"Go," was all Nashoba said to dismiss her before the Alpha herself turned and left the clearing to attend to other matters; her beta slipped from the horseshoe behind Accalia and followed, still in wolfskin. The others waited, and Accalia could feel all of their minds against hers, wishing her good luck, pressing comforting thoughts against her mind, hoping for her safe journey and quick return. As she passed through the crowd of bodies, she could feel them, her pack and family, in mind and body, with her. Even though she would leave them for a time, she would return with the skills to better lead them.
And with a final step, she was finally out of the crush of bodies, free and clear and utterly alone. Unable to bear the loneliness of body with the sense of accompaniment of mind, she severed the mental connection she inherently shared with her pack, and was, for the first time in her life, truly alone in the world. The feeling of staring into the void, being alone with one's own soul, was so immensely fear inducing that Accalia bolted, hurdling headlong down the path that she'd run hundreds of times before, though this time she deviated and kept heading south. She ran for days, stopping only for water, only the fear of the emptiness in her mind giving her the energy to continue putting one paw in front of the other. The morning of the third day, when she saw the sun shining over the twisting river that marked her destination, Accalia could do little more than take a gulp from the river, find a small copse of trees, and drop down, losing all consciousness and falling blissfully unaware of the emptiness in her head.
When she woke up, Accalia was aware of three things, all in a confusing order of jumbled chaos that just made it harder to focus. One, she was starving. Her stomach was actively staging a coup, and she could hear the sounds of rebellion right now. Two, she was parched; the quick gulp she managed to grab before she collapsed wasn't enough to slake her thirst, and her dehydration came with a splitting headache. She wasn't sure whether to count that as one thing together, or two separate evils, but she decided she had enough on her plate as it was, and chalked it up to one pain in the ass. The third was the complete and total radio silence in her head. Even now, on the afternoon of day four of the mute button being pressed, Accalia couldn't help but feel like there was an air of wrongness surrounding her; when there wasn't a flow of information coming from others, it was like she was an island, adrift in the void.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of both the negative thoughts and the echoing silence, although all she managed to do was worsen the headache and add a spinning tilt to the world.
That's it, she decided, I have to hunt, or none of this is gonna matter. I'm gonna end up dead of starvation and that'll be the end of it. After standing up and drinking her fill, Accalia swept the area for a suitable meal; most of the game had returned since her arrival, and she had her pickings among a variety of game and fowl. She settled on a yellow-bellied marmot that had been too focused on getting its own dinner to notice her approach. The rodent sated her, and she realized with a start that this was her first kill that she could attribute to herself and only herself. The young wolf held herself a little higher as she walked back to the copse of trees she had first settled in, puffed up with pride.
The sun continued its path across the sky, dropping below the horizon only to be replaced by the moon on the opposite edge of the sky. Accalia watched all this from her position in the shade, observing the meadow by the river with interest. Any time she would shift her position, all of the animals in the area would scatter and flee, hushing the field into the silence of a nearby predator. But if she could remember to keep still, she was privy to the goings on of the natural world that even her pack didn't see. And when day changed to night, she saw the diurnal become nocturnal, bats and owls replacing larks and sparrows, fireflies lighting up the grass like lanterns, and coyote howling in the distance, keeping their distance, at least for the moment.
Though she had slept for more than an entire day, Accalia still felt the inexorable pull of sleep, and soon succumbed, laying her head on the soft grass and letting the sounds of the night lull her to sleep. She slept the entire night as the stars turned overhead, paying no heed to the dangers of the predators' who she had angered by wandering into their territory unwittingly. They held their rage though; even a long wolf was a worthy adversary, and they would wait until the perfect opportunity presented itself to attack.
Accalia woke the next morning, well rested and pleased that she was already a third of the way done with her trial. She decided to congratulate herself with a jog around the meadow she had set up a temporary home in, to familiarize herself with the territory as well as to stave off boredom. The nearly 35 acre field would have stymied a human, but as a Lykoi Warrior, she didn't even break a sweat as she crossed the land, easily following the rises and dips, until a strange, bitter scent caused her to stop dead in her tracks. She studied it carefully, and thought back to her lessons in tracking and scenting. It was definitely feline, and most certainly big, but what…
A snarl alerted her to what the creature was before her mind could finish processing what it could be. A mountain lion jumped from its cover in the brush, sinking its claws into Accalia's flank and its teeth into the top of her neck, attempting to paralyze her. Mentally cursing herself for allowing it to get downwind of her, Accalia allowed the wolf portion of her mind to take over; it was better equipped for this fight, and it was the best chance she had at the moment for surviving.
She thrashed, twisting her body and throwing herself on the ground to dislodge the mountain lion. The cat held fast, removing its mouth to snarl at her. Accalia growled back, her eyes dark cognac, all traces of humanity gone. The mountain lion loosened one claw to swipe at her face, and Accalia took that opportunity to twist, sending the cat sprawling. As soon as it was off of her, the mountain lion noticed its distinct lack of advantage and tried to flee, but its element of surprise was lost. Accalia overtook it in an instant and crushed its throat, killing it with sheer force.
Bruised and bloody, the wolf stood over the corpse of her adversary and howled her victory, letting her voice roll over the field for miles. She dared anyone in the area to challenge her, to try to stop her. But eventually her howl died down and ice blue replaced cognac. Accalia, once again in full possession of her human faculties, took stock of herself. The fight, although it hadn't taken more than a few minutes, had left her utterly drained. She was bleeding heavily. If she didn't stop the bleeding, she was liable to pass out. The only positive thing to come out of it was that she didn't have to worry about hunting again, so long as she could manage to carry the mountain lion back to the copse of trees she had made her temporary home. But first, the bleeding. Accalia turned inward and focused, bringing the image of fingers and toes to mind. She began to change back, slowly at first, and then all at once until there was no longer a wolf, but only a naked girl on the edge of a field. Her bleeding had stopped; the change of form had healed the serious of the wounds, but a nasty bruise had remained in their place. Heaving a deep sigh, Accalia resigned herself to change again and became the wolf once more, dragging the corpse of the mountain lion back to the copse of trees.
The third day passed without incident, though Accalia did little to cause incident in the first place. She scarcely left her makeshift den, and only did so to relieve herself or to drink. She was still sore and had no desire to aggravate her injuries when she had a three day journey back to her pack.
When she left, she was happy to do so, joy at the prospect of returning to her family and pack keeping her steps light and her pace fast even though her flanks ached. Her journey was slower than when she traveled away in her mad flight of fear, she wasn't running in sheer panic, so she remembered the little things like resting and drinking. Still, near the end of the second day, her pace increased, and Accalia seemed to run like a wolf possessed again. This time though, she couldn't place what motivated her to move so quickly; but she knew she needed to hurry. The trail became familiar on the afternoon of the third day, and Accalia was grateful to be home, even if exhaustion of mind and body tugged her to slow down. She put on a burst of speed and broke through the trees, only to stop short.
There, in the clearing before her, assaulting her eyes and nose, were the signs of slaughter. Everywhere she looked there was blood and gore and bodies. She shook in horror. This was just her mind playing tricks on her. This couldn't be right. She took a step forward, but froze when she put a paw down and heard a wet squelch. She refused to look down and identify what she had stepped in.
Still shaking, Accalia partially transformed, still wolf enough to fight, but human enough to speak; she called this her anthro-wolf, but most of the others called this unnatural. "Hello?" she cried out, her voice rough and deep. "Please!"
"Matteo, Kinra, Eve?" she called out the little triplets, refusing to believe the little bodies she passed were them. "Kowan! This isn't funny." That the bigger body sprawled out in front of them wasn't his. "Himina?" That the shock of white hair that couldn't possibly be anyone else's wasn't lying on the ground, dyed red. Each of the bodies she passed had a hole punched through the sternum, as though something was removed.
Accalia was barely holding it together, keeping her wolf from taking over and ruling her mind, taking revenge for her, until she opened the door to her family home and saw her Alpha, her mother, with two young pups behind her, all three slaughtered. Accalia broke, her mind fracturing. Her wolf half stepped in, taking control of the situation; ice blue back to cognac and unstable human into logical wolf. Whoever did this would have to die, simple as that. Speaking of, the wolf could smell the scent of steel and human flesh approaching, foolish enough to do so downwind. You think you can slaughter my pack, and then finish me off? The wolf though angrily. There is only one of us who will make it out of here; I will survive.