The moon rose in the sky in its full glory, softly illuminating the earth beneath it. There was a chill in the air as a cold breeze passed and ruffled the furs of the werewolves who were gathered in the clearing.
Nobody could have mistaken them for anything but beasts tonight, an entirely different species from their namesake as their forms rose to more than six feet just standing on their paws. Every inch of their bodies was danger packed in their muscles, claws, and sharp canines.
Under the weaving shadows and cover of darkness the night offered, everyone could be exactly who they were. It was nothing like the stories say where they were forced to change, overtaken by the need to be in their most natural form. It wasn't a curse; nobody was forced to howl, rampage the streets, or be in that form had they not wanted it.
It felt normal, natural, for them to slip off their humanity and wrap their true forms around them, embracing themselves fully along with their pack.
Everyone was ready for the hunt, to the game they all participated in whenever the moon was in its full glory. The game was pure tradition; chasing after whatever prey that had failed to hide when they started the hunt, feeling the rush on their skin, in their blood as they hunted, and shared the prize with their pack. This had been going on as far as they could remember, even before humans could walk upright, speak, and had built their tools and establishments.
However, tonight was a little different than most of their hunts.
There was a nervous energy around them, a fritter that took over most of them as they waited with bated breath. There was going to be a new addition to their hunt and most of them didn't know what to make of it. The newcomer wasn't exactly new and she wasn't exactly a stranger to their pack.
But she was a new, strange werewolf in their eyes since they didn't know she was one in the years they had known her. It was only a few months ago they knew of her as a wolf, and even then, they had thought it was some sort of spell like witches had done in the past. Recent events had forced it down their throats to accept the fact, the truth, that she was one of them—even if she could heal and was more dominant than their alpha.
It had been many weeks ago when she, the Alarick who was the head of the werewolves, his enforcer, a witch and a warlock, and the Reons pack, came running to them for safety. They were being hunted by the rogues and the pack which controlled them, the same ones who had been going around in the past few years killing other packs without mercy.
After the ambush where surprisingly, only a few Alcatrozz wolves and rogues died, and the kidnapping, the strange new wolf had been in her own world. She had trapped herself inside her own cottage and no amount of coaxing from their Louve, Elizabeth, her son Tate, or the Louve of the Reons, Lilian, could bring her out.
It wasn't until one of the Reons' wolf, Rastor, went in and talked to her for a few minutes that she finally came out of her cabin. Nobody knew what the guy said, but when the girl came out, there were dark circles under her eyes, and she seemed much thinner than she was before.
That was a few days ago. Since she came out of her place, she had been seen being dragged all around the pack house by Lilian, Elizabeth, and being followed everywhere by their future Alpha, Tate, much to everyone's confusion. They weren't close before and no one knew why he was acting this way when the girl only just kept ignoring him.
The first time people heard her talk again was when Tate had invited her to join them in the monthly game. The few who were around them had noticed a hint of curiosity surface amidst the blankness in her eyes, so no one was shocked when she agreed to come—it's just that no one really knew what to expect.
