With just 36 hours until the next full moon, Cort isn't turned yet, but he is certainly wolfish in his way.

Human is still in control, but that wolf underneath the humanity, the other him, is getting stronger. It'll come out tomorrow night, but for now, Cort won't let it.

A big problem is, Cort is hungry. The biggest problem is, so is the wolf. He's being double teamed, and he doesn't think it's fair.

Cort is out (walking, again) looking for some place that is open this late and serves something that looks appetizing.

Then, he catches something on the wind, something that smells nice. Something that smells appetizing.

Something that smells like food.

Arabella K. Winston. It's a name that implies romance novels, floofy hair, daringly low bust lines, and maybe a Victorian affectation.

Ary has none of this. She's a plain girl of 20, her hair straight and dull brown, her skin an uninteresting Caucasian, her clothes-- a grey sweatshirt with keaton U printed on it and jeans-- the uniform for wallflowers the University over.

And in fact, if not for a quirk of heritage, she would be everything she seems.

Of course, right ow, out walking much too late at night, what she seems like is...

...a snack.

A snack indeed.

Cort the human doesn't recognize the smell as human. The wolf does, but it's not telling.

Following the smell, Cort is not entirely human. He's retreated, sort of. He's halfway between.

He rounds a corner and sees... something. Food? Person? He's not sure, but he's hungry.

He wastes no time, and with a creepy howl and a snarl, starts running toward the...

prey.

Ary walks with her eyes on the ground, watching her dirty shoelaces lick the ground. Of course, when she hears an animalistic howl, she looks up.

When she sees-- something-- coming towards her, she turns and runs.

She wastes no time with a scream, just a startled little yelp. Her sneakers beat the sidewalk.

Cort, under the influence of adrenaline, wolf, and hunger, runs just a bit faster than the prey can. He's also noisier, but that has nothing to do with anything except the smell of fear she's letting off, spurring him on even more.

Pretty soon, he's close enough to reach out and rake her hair with his outstretched hand.

Good thing he trimmed his nails today.

Ohjesuschristit'sgianingit'sgainingwhatnow!

She darts around a corner, letting out a siren scream, her sneakers skiding on the pavement. It's too dark. It's too empty. There's no one to help.

Of course there's no one around. The gods like this kind of thing and make sure there's no one around to ruin it for them.

At the moment, Cort doesn't really mind. He will later, of course, but not now.

He turns after her, speeding up again until he's close enough to grab the back of her shirt.

He stops, hoping to stop her as well, but his grip on the shirt isn't reall so great.

It's good enough. Ary's feet fly out from under her as her torso stops going but they try to continue. She screams again as she falls, and something in the distance clicks and buzzes-- a summer insect in a non-existant tree.

But that's not important.

As she falls back, Cort grabs her, reveling in the scent of fear.

It's better than any alcohol, any drug. It makes you feel so powerful.

Now, the wolf realizes it can't really bite, so it grabs her throat. Cort is horrified, somewhere in his brain, that his body is doing this.

It's not fair, really.

Ary is just a normal young woman. Just a normal young woman. Nothing like this has ever happened to her before. She's sobbing, struggling. Pleading.

Let me go. Please. please let me go. Whatever you want. I'll give you whatever you want. Please.

The warm salt rush of her tears fills the air, like an appetizer for blood. Something inside her shifts under pressure, but doesn't emerge.

Cort's hand is squeezing, squeezing without his consent.

It sucks, have more than one thing in your body, more than one self.

There's a twisted grin on his face, more a baring of teeth than a smile.

The wolf is enjoying this far too much.

She chokes, flails, then gets a grip on his arm.

"Pl- please... stop..."

She stares up at him, eyes dark and watery. No-- not just dark-- they're uttery black, each like on huge pupil, full of silvery reflections from the tears flowing down her face.

Even the wolf knew something was wrong. It jerked back and let go, standing up and away.

This gave Cort a brief upperhand.

He seized control. But the wolf did, too. So both were in control, giving Cort a wolf way, still, but with speech.

He was a talking wolf, now.

"What the fuck are you?" it asked, Cort normal voice no where to be found. What came out of him was very much like a snarl, a growl, a wolf voice.

Inside his own brain, Cort placed his face in his hands and shook his head.

She chokes again, getting her breath back, still laying on the ground, staring up.

"What-- what-- what am I?" Incredulous, through the pain in her throat.

(An insect chirps.)

"What-- what-- what are you?"

The wolf heard the insect, but being of the forest, thought nothing of it.

Cort thought it was kind of weird.

"I'm in charge," it said. "I'm alpha."

"Now, what are you?"

She scrambles up onto her feet, breathing heavily, and backs away, aware in soem animal way that he'd probably kill her if she ran.

"You're-- you're-- you're a psycho!" she exclaims, her voice strained, rising at the end in almost a wail.

I'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodie.

The wolf thinks for a moment, the bares its teeth again in a mockery of a smile.

"Yes."

It then began to advance on her, letting out little snarls as it came closer.

Her breath comes heavy, almost pushing out little noises as she backs away, staring at-- starign att--

Oh god, she's seen this guy around campus, he never looked psycho..!

"Look... look... look, what do you, do you want? I-- I don't have a lot of money on me-- and-- and I ahve a venereal disease!"

This comes out in a rush, with her relief of having thought of it.

"Yes! A really, a really virulent venereal-- disease-- you really... don't want to rape me... please..."

The wolf lets out a snarl of disgust.

"Do that? With a human?" He lets out the snarl again. "Disgusting."

He steps closer, saying, "I just want to tear out your throat. I'm hungry."

Ooookay. Clearly psychotic.

"Lookwhydon'tyoujustgogetahamburger."

Her eyes are wide, the whites showing all around.

"I don't like cow," it says simply.

It lunges, Cort helpless in his own head.

To her own surprise, and probably also the wolf's, she smacks at him, open fist, all her force (which, although not entirely unleashed, is still a bit more than normal for a girl her size.)

Ever seen a dog get hit on the nose with a newspaper.

The wolf reacted very much like that.

Then it snarled again, snapped its teeth, and scratched at her.

Again, good thing Cort trimmed his nails today.

Where the sweatshirt's sleeve had been pushed up and her skin exposed, the nails scratch thin slices from her skin, but for the most part the heavy grey material dampens the effort.

She shrieks and slaps again, frantic.

The wolf, deciding it isn't quite this hungry, retreats back to under the humanity.

Cort's body sags for a moment while he figures out he's in charge again, then straightens. Cort looks out through his own eyes at the girl, says, "I'm so sorry," then runs.

He doesn't stop until he's good and lost.