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WHO: Katherine Danvers & Open should you like to risk it
WHAT: Werewolves don't do well in cages
WHERE: The empty room, first floor
WHEN: July 2
WARNING: She's a werewolf, and this house is a trap, so.
Kate had been here over a month. She usually had to change at least once in a months period. But trapped in this cage, she had to fight it. But she was physically only able to fight so much for so long. She had felt itchy, antsy, and like she was crawling out of her skin from day one.
Wolves were not meant for cages.
She could feel her wolf under her skin, demanding to get out. For more than a week now she could see the wolf under her skin, and so Kate had been avoiding people. Her temper was short, her mood was bad, and frankly, Kate was a threat to them. But Kate was also only going to make it worse on herself. The longer she put off the change, the more brutal it was going to be.
Kate had woke up that morning and knew she wouldn't be able to hold it off any longer. She had wandered around the house and eventually found an empty room, save for some photos on the wall. She had gone inside and closed the door. If the door vanished, good. Fine. It wasn't like she could get any more caged, and at least trapping her inside would keep anyone from coming in and out.
Moving to the furthest wall from the door, she lowered herself to the floor. She could keep fighting it, and it would eventually take over. The walls would close in on her, and her mind could end up being more wolf than she could control. Or she could give in.
Her bones began to break, though Kate didn't make a sound. Instead, she pulled off her clothes, tossing them into a pile in the corner and prayed she didn't end up ripping them.
She dropped to her knees, bones breaking and reforming, hands and feet forming from hands to paws and claws, and yellow-blonde fur sprouting from her skin. It was beyond painful, but nothing she was not used to. Soon enough, it was over. Instead of a blonde woman, she was a blonde wolf, bright blue eyes surveying the room.
Despite the shift, she still felt just as trapped. Wolves did not do well in cages. Her human side would know better than to make any sound, but her wolf side had been contained for too long. Growling, she began pacing the room, the wolf desperately trying to find a way out that the human side of her had failed to do.
WHAT: Werewolves don't do well in cages
WHERE: The empty room, first floor
WHEN: July 2
WARNING: She's a werewolf, and this house is a trap, so.
Kate had been here over a month. She usually had to change at least once in a months period. But trapped in this cage, she had to fight it. But she was physically only able to fight so much for so long. She had felt itchy, antsy, and like she was crawling out of her skin from day one.
Wolves were not meant for cages.
She could feel her wolf under her skin, demanding to get out. For more than a week now she could see the wolf under her skin, and so Kate had been avoiding people. Her temper was short, her mood was bad, and frankly, Kate was a threat to them. But Kate was also only going to make it worse on herself. The longer she put off the change, the more brutal it was going to be.
Kate had woke up that morning and knew she wouldn't be able to hold it off any longer. She had wandered around the house and eventually found an empty room, save for some photos on the wall. She had gone inside and closed the door. If the door vanished, good. Fine. It wasn't like she could get any more caged, and at least trapping her inside would keep anyone from coming in and out.
Moving to the furthest wall from the door, she lowered herself to the floor. She could keep fighting it, and it would eventually take over. The walls would close in on her, and her mind could end up being more wolf than she could control. Or she could give in.
Her bones began to break, though Kate didn't make a sound. Instead, she pulled off her clothes, tossing them into a pile in the corner and prayed she didn't end up ripping them.
She dropped to her knees, bones breaking and reforming, hands and feet forming from hands to paws and claws, and yellow-blonde fur sprouting from her skin. It was beyond painful, but nothing she was not used to. Soon enough, it was over. Instead of a blonde woman, she was a blonde wolf, bright blue eyes surveying the room.
Despite the shift, she still felt just as trapped. Wolves did not do well in cages. Her human side would know better than to make any sound, but her wolf side had been contained for too long. Growling, she began pacing the room, the wolf desperately trying to find a way out that the human side of her had failed to do.