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Sharp stabs of pain shot up her legs as each rock and twig left its mark on the soles of her feet. She stumbled and her face hit the ground, leaves and sticks once again pushing their way into her flesh. One deep breath, two. She couldn’t go on without catching her breath. The girl’s hair fanned out around her head, a silver sheet in the rising moonlight. Her skin glowed, almost translucent against the light that filtered through the trees. She was innocent, that much was plainly obvious, untouched by the evils of the world. The growling that had been following her was growing louder. She may have been untouched by evil, but she knew a warning when she heard one.
Her knees ached, her legs burned and her slender torso still rose and fell with every breath. It was over. She knew that running would be suicide. She would get a little further and collapse again. It was only a matter of time before the creature caught her. Saying she knew exactly what was chasing her would have been an outright lie. She didn’t have the slightest clue what was after her, but it was big and in this case, big was bad.
She turned to her back, blood making a smooth path down her face and neck. She hurt, she ached all over but she refused to cry. She had been crying since the chase had begun more than an hour ago. The fear had to be attracting it, or maybe it was the blood that made a steady onto the forest floor.
A crack.
The soft sound of animal-like paws thudding on the ground came closer. A cold nose snorted as it neared the girl and hot breath left a cloud in the chilly February air. She closed her eyes in pain and cringed as the animal bit into her side with savage abandon, ripping at her flesh as if it were wet paper. That was when the girl dropped the courageous act and started crying, sobs tearing from her body as she reached up to cover her face with her hands. Before her right arm had risen off the forest floor, the creature had it in his powerful jaws. She tried to curl into herself, make herself smaller, but the pain in her side prevented any such action.
Darkness loomed like a terrifying cloud; she knew that if she gave into it she would be gone. Her eyes opened, crystal depths of silver blue stared at the carnage that was her own body. Her bones rubbed together in her wrist and a moan was torn from her throat. The creature dropped her wrist and looked at her face. It was some sort of tiger, but it couldn’t be normal, could it? The size wasn’t quiet the same as a normal tiger, it was slightly smaller. Golden eyes stared back from an angry face. There was something powerful in those eyes. Something that made you want to look away in fear but also something that made you fear looking away.
The creases that lined the tiger’s face, the ones that defined the fury, slowly smoothed, revealing a face void of all emotion. The girl cringed as another shot of pain raced up her arm and side. Even if the beast let her go now, she would bleed to death on the forest floor.
The beast started panting and warm breath washed over the girl’s face, cooling the sweat and tears that rested on her skin. As the girl watched, the tiger started to change. Slowly the stripes faded from the face and body and the bronze colored hair started to recede everywhere but on the top of the animal’s head, where it grew longer, coming to rest on it’s shoulders. And as the girl watched, the bones in the frightening face shifted, changed. The snout shortened and the eyes shifted downward until a man sat next to her, still on his haunches, still looking somewhat beastly. A look of concern crossed his face, then a look of horror, staring at the damage he had done. The girl saw him mouth the words ‘Oh my God’ but the rushing in her ears drowned out all noise except for the pounding of her heart which only grew until it sounded as if the organ would burst.
Another beat of the girl’s heart, another wave of pain. Darkness pulled at the young girl and she gave up trying to fight it. The pull was too great. Darkness meant escaping the pain. The last thing the girl saw was the man leaning over her, copper hair catching the moonlight and hazel eyes looking apologetic.

Not many people got that right away, very good!

So is it totaly by the moon, or is it a controlable thing, only changing when he wants to, or is a need-to-feed based change?

In my story, it's a little different. He can change when he wants to but he has to change when there's a full moon.

alrighty, I gotta find the notebook and type more up first, but I'll have it soon.

*dances and waits... and attempts to work on her own story*

Voices filled the background as the girl struggled to hold onto consciousness.
“Something big attacked her…” one said.
“Half the skin covering her ribs was gone….” Another supplied.
“We were lucky to be able to save her hand.”
The girls eyes slowly opened, a dull ache replacing the numbness she had been feeling. She heard the voices stop and hands touched her shoulders, a man coming into focus leaning over her. The girl flashed back to the night in the forest, a different face swimming before her vision. Flashes of the man turned beast filled her thoughts and her eyes opened, as if of their own accord, looking for a mop of red hair hanging into a pair of hazel eyes.
She scanned the room twice without seeing him, vaguely recalling the muttered “fine” at the question of whether or not she felt ok. She scanned the room again, ignoring the questions of “are you in pain” and “why are you frowning”.
He was there, standing in the corner of the very white room, though almost unseen in the shadows. Her brow furrowed slightly but she kept the contact with the man. His eyes still had the same effect, the fear and fascination warring within her. She began to raise her right arm, to hold it out in a gesture of kindness but pain rushed up the appendage and she cringed, watching as he visibly flinched because of her pain.
His feet carried him forward until he stood beside her bed, their eyes never breaking the connection.
“Sir, I don’t know how you got in here, but you’ll have to wait outside.” A man with white hair in his late forties or early fifties touched the red-head’s shoulder, snapping him from his daze. The younger faced his elder and the hand fell to rest at his side.
“Doctor, I have been in this room with her for five days and no one has said anything yet.” He turned as if to look at the muttered “No one has seen me but you know….” The doctor didn’t hear the second part, but watched with interest as the red-head turned back to him. “She is my charge.” The girls frown returned, puzzled the words. “May I have a few minutes with her? Please?” he asked calmly. The doctor nodded slowly and left the room without another word.
The girls eyes never moved from the boys face. “What are you?” she asked shakily. Not ‘who’. ‘What’.
The man sat down on the edge of the bed and she automatically shrank away from him, trying to make herself as small as possible upon the cramped surface. When their eyes connected again, his face held much more sincerity than it had before. “For the last week I have been tearing myself apart for what I did.” He told her, sorrow evident in his tone. “I just kept hoping beyond all hope that you would open your eyes. If I had killed you, I don’t think I would have been able to live with myself.”
“I’ve been out for a week?” the girl asked with a scratchy voice.
A nod. “I haven’t left yet. I feel horrible about what happened. I hadn’t bitten anyone up until you.”
“I’m honored,” she replied dryly. “but that still doesn’t answer what you are.”
“I’m a lycanthrope. A were-tiger as some people say.” His gaze dropped to the floor.
“So now I’ll turn into one every month….” She whispered blandly, her voice void of all emotion, only the quickening of the heart monitor giving away her anxiety.
“Maybe not!” he quickly answered. “Sometimes with feline lycanthropes, the DNA doesn’t pass as easily.” He stood up and walked to the single window, overlooking an alleyway and the dumpster that resided there. “Nobody knows why. Something about felines being such a complex creature or something like that.”
“What’s your name?” the girl asked after a short silence.
“Um…. Stephen. Stephen Greyson. What’s yours?”
“Jessica Messinger. Jessi is what I generally go by.” She looked down at her hands, one encased in white plaster. She was making small talk to get her mind of what she might be becoming, at least that was Stephen’s guess. “You seem young.” The girl said, a little more freely than before.
“19.” He replied with a shrug. “You look younger.”
“16. Not by that much.” She said with a smile. “So Stephen…. How did you become a were-tiger?” Jessi sagged back into the pillows a little as she asked.
A melancholic look crossed his face. “I was five…. Maybe six years old. I went out for a walk along the same woods you did. The whole thing was very similar to what happened with you actually. I heard a deep growl and I started running. I tripped and the tiger bit me on the leg. The next month I was striped and furry.”
A small smile crossed Jessi’s face. “interesting way to put it.”
“Well it’s only true.” He said with a smirk that slowly spread into a wider smile. It was a tentative gesture. As his grin grew, she saw why. Two of his teeth were longer than the others, canine teeth. She returned his smile broadly and he took it as a hint that she accepted that fat about him. She tried to sit up and pain raced down her side. She sucked in a deep breath as Stephen stepped toward the bed. Jessi automatically shrunk away and the boy noticed, stepping back as she gingerly lowed herself. “Ow.” She hissed between clenched teeth. “Remind me never to do that again.” She told him, grimacing at her own stupidity.
Jessi shifted back into the pillows. “So after you turned back into a human, you brought me here?” she asked quietly, still tight with pain.
“Not exactly.” He looked down at his feet before continuing his pacing. She sat there quietly. The only sounds filling the room were that of the heart monitor and the steady drip of the IV. “I couldn’t exactly take you anywhere while I was naked. Or had you forgotten that I was naked when you passed out?”
The girl’s faced flushed scarlet. “Oh no, I remembered.”
Stephen gave a slight chuckle “I ran by my house before I brought you here.” His face flushed to match hers. “I also had to find something for you to wear…. Your clothes didn’t exactly come out in tip-top condition.”
“Oh”
“I’m sorry but it was necessary. I had to clean out the wounds. There was a lot of dirt in them.” He sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the room, giving Jessi some much needed space. “And you aren’t in a normal hospital. You’re in a hospital that specializes in lycanthrope attacks.”
The girl settled further into the pillows, comforted by the thought that the doctors were used to treating this kind of thing. She was getting drowsy again but fought the drug induced sleep with everything she had.
Stephen stood and came to the bedside. “Don’t fight it, just go back to sleep.” His face grew hazy and Jessi;s eyes closed, sending her back into the peaceful oblivion. Stephen stood vigil long after she dozed off. He sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair and watched her but his mind drifted back to another time and another girl….

*Ish proud that she got more up* 3nodding whee 4laugh