The street glowed an ominous yellow, each shadow dramatized like a bad horror movie underneath the artificial light of the streetlamps. Even through the dim light, his eyes saw all: the passing of a cat underneath a car about a hundred feet away, two rats scampering around near the gutter, someone stamping around their house in the cul-de-sac. A light smirk played on his jowls, long white fangs glimmering in the pale light beneath the dark skin that once hid them.
There were others in the area; some like him, some not. A few reeked of feline, an acrid, foul stench that burned his nose. Several smelled of average human, but their auras were so powerful he could feel them radiating from several hundred yards away. These human-like ones were the most in number: there seemed to be more than ten of them in the immediate vicinity, their auras pressing against his mind like brick walls until he could barely think. He had to move, find some way to get them out of his head.
Without really thinking it through he lurched forward, all four paws barely touching concrete as he loped down the pavement at top speed. The wind whistled through his fur like a ghost, ticking his nerves and sending shivers of excitement through his body. There was something exhilarating about running in his true form through areas like this; it was dangerous, but that was what turned him on the most. It made him feel free, like he was a true free being and none of these mundane creatures living in their little brick boxes could tell him otherwise.
He could hear the calls of his brethren form the safety of the trees on the other side of the cul-de-sac, telling him it was suicide and that he needed to get his ass back in the woods, but he drowned them out. This feeling was better than any drug could ever give him, a high that seemed to seep its way through his system from his bones to his fur. He threw his head back and let out a baying howl, his voice so loud it seemed to shake the moon and every window on the block.
A light popping on in a window of a house about twenty feet ahead caught the lycan's attention and the warning bells began ringing in the back of his still flying mind, natural instinct telling him to run and hide in the safety of the trees. Deciding that it would be best to not get spotted and endanger his whole pack for his own selfish needs he darted sideways, leaping over a fence with ease into the dense cover of the trees. A snarl came from his right, followed by a vicious slap of claws to his right shoulder. He let out a yelp of pain, but didn't retaliate. He did deserve it. That was stupid. Stupid, but so worth it.
"San… Nee-san… Nata-neesan… HINATA!"
Her eyes snapped open, wide and shocked as they stared up at the blank spackling of the ceiling. Her breaths were short and raspy, chest heaving as she forced herself to calm down. That had been some dream. She could still feel the tingles of excitement coursing through her body that she had felt in her dream. That was one intense dream. And yet, in the pit of her stomach, she felt like it wasn't just her head. She couldn't help but feel like it was real, like she had really just sprouted a brindle coat and a wolf form. Whoa. Weird.
She turned to look at her younger sister, who was standing over her with her arms crossed and her small face pinched up in a look of indignance. "Sorry, Hanabi," she said, a bit sheepish as she chuckled. "I guess I was having a bit of a weird dream."
The younger girl sniffed. "Some dream," she retorted, turning on her heel. "I was sound asleep before you started scratching at your wall like you were running from the Devil."
Hinata looked at her wall, and sure enough, there were a few indentations in the slate blue paint. She'd have to fix those the next day before her father saw them. Otherwise, he was liable to shit a chicken. She turned back to Hanabi, giving her a sympathetic smile. "I'll try to restrain my subconscious from now on."
Hanabi let out a haughty huff before exiting the room, muttering something about leg restraints as she slammed the door. The elder Hyuuga girl turned to lie on her back, wiping off the thin film of sweat that had built up on her brow during her feverish sleeping fit. She still couldn't shake the feeling of how real that dream had felt. Oh well. It was normal to have dreams that were freakily realistic, right? Those things happened. She was just overanalyzing.
Turning her head she groaned as her eyes met her alarm clock: it was 1:34 in the morning, way too early to be analyzing dreams. She'd have to ask that Shikamaru boy about it. He was always bragging that he was the best psychoanalyst in their city. Maybe he could explain that wild dream.
She let out a groan, turning her back to the alarm clock and pulling the covers tighter around her. Sleep quickly overtook her fatigued and still half-conscious mind, allowing her to slide back into an easy, untroubled sleep… but not before she heard the distinct sound of a lone wolf howl through her half-open window.