Night fell languidly, drowsily, dragging its arcane black cloak across the sky with little enthusiasm, as if the moon could not be woken and the sun must linger a moment longer to account for its absence. It seemed that a dying light filled the cabin for hours past when Priam anticipated nightfall, and he could not be certain whether this delay was due to the same magical properties of the woman in his company or his subtle anxiety at her identity come nightfall. When at last the final bits of sunlight flickered out, extinguished by the lake, he turned to observe Lucina's reaction to the rise of an uncomfortably large moon. Bathed once more in the pale, cool fingers of night, she seemed to be growing restless, and he moved his chair to the far corner of the room so that, should she find herself subjected to whatever hex pumped through her veins, he would not be caught in the crossfire. She was alert, and if she had the wolf ears they would be perked up curiously towards the window, from which the richness of the darkness attempted to penetrate her peculiar ability to attract beams of moonlight. With that slim amount of light he was able to detect a sheen of sweat across her naked flesh. Her blood must be in a rage, more steam than fluid as it pounded furiously against her skin. The poor girl seemed on edge, listening for something that had not yet hit his ears, and suddenly she began to tremble as she pushed up to rest on all fours.
He sat up a little straighter. "Lucina...?"
"I..." She shuddered, her powerful muscles rippling beneath nude flesh. He could already detect a puddle spreading beneath her, and the ripened odor of salt and bodies. "I need to go outside..."
"I won't allow it. You will hurt yourself in your condition."
Growling suddenly, clutching the blankets below her, she snarled at him, "You will get hurt."
"I can take it, whatever may happen." They were brave words, and he said them as confidently as a woodsman whose greatest enemy was the forest itself, but in a moment he regretted such a casual sentence. She was quivering harder and her muscles were twitching spastically, now, so much so that she nearly collapsed face first, but she held herself up long enough to scream humanly and then she was lost. Her very bones were burning now, and her screams were inhuman and closer to howls, guttural and nonsensical and, above all, tormented. Deep within morphing vocal cords was a powerful note so beautiful, so wild and liberated but at the same time so repressed and tragic, more dismal than a fallen tree still smoking from a fire, more downcast than a thunderstorm with no lightning. As her body warped and morphed, her lungs seemed to be crushed beneath her ribs and he almost ran to help but there was nothing within his power that would sooth her anguish. She existed now somewhere between his knowledge, too animalistic to be reasoned with but too human to be calmed by slow movements and gentle words.
He forced himself to relax. He was of no use to her if he, too, was panicked and beyond consolation. Her body was now beyond his recognition as anything natural, but he marveled at the magic behind her condition. Somewhere in the world someone had hated her enough to damage her in such a way, and now she seemed doomed to suffer until her terrifying transformation snapped her spine beyond the aid of her boiling blood and she collapsed under the weight of her own existence.
In every way it expressed ultimate cowardice, but he turned away. Perhaps it was because he felt invasive for observing her transformation, or perhaps it was true fear, but he found himself unable to witness anything for another moment. He only tilted his head up to see once the noise had ceased and he was certain there would be a sleeping woman. He met those bright eyes, filled with such depth that he felt himself sinking into them, but they were set in the skull of the moonlit wolf.
"Lucina?" he murmured vaguely, words now sounding strange even on his perfectly human tongue. The wolf blinked at him and tilted her head, a bit wary but also curious and innocent. She seemed to recognize her name, though, and suddenly she leapt off the bed and staggered towards him. He had dealt with wolves in the woods before, and knew that they would not attack until they detected a smart opening, but this was different than entering the territory of his hostile pack. She approached with a calm demeanor, sniffed at him, and then stepped back and tilted her head the opposite direction. He lowered his guard and so did she. "I brought you here to heal. Do you remember me? I suppose we only spoke briefly."
She woofed slightly and suddenly sneezed, and with that lost interest in him. Instead, she sniffed around the cabin and lapped eagerly at the water he had stashed, then dug for a moment at the section of the floor that was cut out to be the door of a cellar. He allowed this with awe, grateful that the beast seemed to have deemed him worthy, but also he began to worry that she may destroy his supplies and he would watch powerlessly. She, however, was too hindered by bandages on her vital joints to do very much destruction, and after just a few moments of searching she collapsed by his bed and sighed deeply.
"If I sleep, too, will you promise not to eat me?" he asked jokingly but softly. She huffed and glared at him with a personality that was more than any animal he had ever seen, but it merely made him chuckle. "I suppose if you kill me in the night, at least I will be able to sleep for eternity."
He watched her face carefully for what seemed like hours, and yet he was never quite able to tell: had she smiled at his teasing?