The One Who Turned Alone

Cleo's jacket didn't last long. She lost it as the forest's whispers hammered in her ears and the tree limbs pulled and scratched. Things moved in the shadows. She heard the voices of people she knew She saw the faces of people she loved and hated. Memories boiled her insides. Her limbs twisted and fangs unfurled from a desperate mouth. Clothing fell away in strips, but she soon stood again, draped in ragged fur and darkness. Night bloomed inside her mind, eclipsing so much of herself, leaving behind only anger, rage, and regret so bitter the wolf could only laugh.

At least until she got a hold of those who drove her away. Then no one would laugh.

special thanks to watsup for help with the buttfluff