A deep growl came from near by, low at first, but eventually turned into a loud snarl. With blood shot eyes, Zabini snapped away, unaware to what had happened. His nostrils flared as he got to his feet, all four feet, and looked around savagely for any type of danger. The last thing he remembered was taking down an enemy on a mountain then he blacked out the question was where was he? Not yet realizing what he had become, Zabini crouched low, waiting silently for something to happen; anything to happen that might force him to defend himself.
When nothing came, Zabini gave his first sigh of relief as he tried to get up on two feet. Surprised when he only got half way, he tumbled sideways in shock; what had happened to him? For the first time since he awoke, Zabini looked at himself; he was covered in hair, a silver coat streaked with white. Then he remembered, as he laid there watching his tail flick across his thigh, and his chest heave in and out with heavy breathes, that he had been transformed by the gods as a punishment. A punishment that would force him to ally himself with his enemy, and force him to befriend his most hated of rivals.
As he got to his feet, his larger than normal teeth showed in a grin, he was as huge and has tall as he was in his human form. He was a bit shaken though; he recognized the huge rippling muscles and the over height as a sign of a werewolf. His teeth were like well-sized daggers, and his claws were like well-curved knives ready to be lodged into the nearest opponent. Nevertheless, he liked what he saw, and he saw what he was hoping to see.
At least I can try to find my tribe, we must regroup if we ever want to return to our former selves, Zabini told himself. He walked off into the forest, occasionally sniffing the air, and the soft forest floor for any indication that his tribe or any other wolf was nearby. Finally picking a scent that was rather fresh, Zabini followed it cautiously, his huge body was easily seen through the trees, and he wasn?t going to let his guard down incase of attack.
When he came to the end of the scent, he found a stream, and another wolf, seemingly injured and trying to find help. Crouching low, Zabini waited behind bushes that were broad enough to hide his massive form, if the wolf proved to be hostile, Zabini was more than capable of out running, and out fighting the injured wolf. From past experiences, Zabini acknowledged that a wolf was most aggressive when it was wounded and had no other way but to fight, so for that reason alone, Zabini kept a safe distance and waited to see what would happen.
When the wolf sunk it?s leg in the stream, Zabini took this as an opportunity to get closer to the creature, maybe find out more about it while it was sitting there unaware to his presence. Would the wolf see him, he wasn?t exactly little? But would his hunting ability of stealth give him the upper hand needed to find out more about this new and strange creature? These were questions he could not answer, but from years of battle and war, he knew that some chances had to be taken in order to make any kind of progress. So he inched his way from bush to bush as he tried to close the gap between the wounded wolf and himself.
