Bare feet move against the forest floor. 10 toes, two feet, two legs, one torso, two hands, two arms, a chest and neck narrowing into the head of a man. He often wonders where man ends and creature begins. He often wonders which one he truly is. Sometimes he wonders if he is really either.
There is a constant struggle - living the life of one requires resisting the urges of the other. The creature is primitive, purely instinctual. It is built to hate, to hunt, to kill. The man is emotional, more so than he'd like to believe. He is built to love, to protect, to live. Somehow, this creature is still him. Another part of him, something much more alive. Something unrestrained in a way that is both terrifying and beautiful at once.
Anger used to bring the creature to the surface. And even after many years of self discipline, it sometimes still did. The creature seemed better capable to deal with his anger - it would consume and destroy the man. He rarely needed anger to shift now. With practice, switching between man and creature became almost automatic.
His transition will be effortless, he knows this, but he doubts he will ever get used to the feeling of the change itself - the ripping (uncomfortable though painless), the adaptation of his body (lengthening and more than doubling in size) and the growing of hair, claws, long ears. His senses change - he can smell better, hear every noise and see even through the deepest of darkness. His perception changes - he is more alert, more aware. His abilities are strengthened - he can run faster and for longer periods of time. He can hit harder and cause serious damage if he is not watching himself and controlling his heightened strength. If he could see himself, if only for a second to be an impartial observer to this creature, he was sure that even he would be scared.
The creature stirs, the man can feel it. He feels the man in him disappearing, succumbing to his demanding counterpart. He almost dreads it. He is often scared that he'll lose himself. Often worried that the creature will take over and never let the man back in control. But it is a risk he must take. He's heard of denying the creature, but to even try seems unthinkable. It is too strong, making itself known even when the man feels under impeccable control. Their basic needs may be compatible but their wants often contradict.
The creature is now growing - growling and twisting and itching to take over. Much like an infant, the creature is driven by a kind of selfishness cause primarily by unawareness. It possesses instinct but no reason. It knows when to act but not why. It is motivated by biological need and necessity, incapable of taking complex emotions into consideration. The man guessed that this was the reason they were so unchangeably linked - the man was a pawn, providing the creature with direction, reason, restraints and restrictions. His brain controls the wolf, but can never suppress it completely. The creatures emotions are impossible to ignore.
While the man could find many reasons to despise his creature self, he could never quite convince himself that the creature was a bad thing. Sometimes it frightens him, sometimes it pushes people away and sometimes it often seems to create more problems than it is worth, but hating the creature would be like hating an unchangeable component of his soul. Hating his nose, the man could justify. Hating his soul seemed wrong. The creature had shaped him, prepared him and trained him. It had taught him valuable lessons about his physical surroundings but also about himself.
And he found himself obliged to appreciate the creature - if not for what it helped him to become, for what it had helped him to find. The man had never thought he'd see days filled with her. And he couldn't bring himself to regret a single thing that had happened to him or a single choice he made, as long as it had led him to her. The creature had made that possible, and the man was eternally grateful.
It was time for the creature to take over - both it and the man knew. Helpless, the man feels his control loosen, like hands loosing grip on handlebars. He does not bother to struggle - even the strongest of men couldn't fight this battle.
He moves, man no longer controlling his body. Slipping. Unhinging. Breaking free.
Something changes. Lines blur. Man and animal blend together.
And somewhere in the distance , a wolf howls.
If you could only see the beast you've made of me. I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free. Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart - drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart.
My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in. You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl. My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in. You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl.
Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack. My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out. The Saints can't help me now. The ropes have been unbound. I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hollow ground.
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins. I want to claw out and tear out all of your tenderness. And howl.
Be careful of the curse that haunts all young lovers. Starts so tender and sweet and turns them into hunters. The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress. Until I wrap myself inside your arms, I cannot rest. The Saints can't help me now. The ropes have been unbound. I hunt for you with bloodied feet against the hollow ground.
And howl.
If you could only see the beast you've made of me. I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free. Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart - drive our teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart.