His breathing was slow and steady, dragging in smells that grew more potent as he became more aware. Sensations slowly returned and his mind gradually processed information as it came to him, tied together and confusing him.

He was cold along one side of his body, damp dirt pressed into one side of his face and flooding his nostrils with what was quickly becoming an overpowering earthy smell, thick with the remnants of rainwater and rotting leaves. He continued to breathe evenly, dragging himself out of paralyzing darkness and blindly stretching one of his hands. It responded, though weakly, and he could feel the subtlety of dirt shifting through his fingers.

After a moment Nino opened his eyes, wincing at light that aggravated his pulsing headache. But the headache faded, allowing him to peer blearily at his surroundings.

His glasses were gone, he noticed immediately, but it didn't keep him from seeing at least the basics of his surroundings.

He was lying on the ground, sprawled out on his side with his back to the trunk of a tree. The forest's canopy was thick overhead, letting broken early morning sunlight filter through the leaves. He wasn't home, he was coming to from something that felt like a drugged sleep completely on his own in the woods.

His confusion forced him more awake, the boy pushing out to try and sit up when he noticed for the first time that he was covered, a thick blanket thrown over him.

Nino grasped at the blanket, confusion settling even thicker as he lifted it, jolting himself completely awake now as he realized he was naked.

Nino sat up with a start, yelping in surprise as he gripped the blanket more tightly against him. He hurried to cover himself, his heart racing despite the fact that logically no one was nearby. With the final dredges of sleep thrown from him his breathing spiked, panic settling in as he kicked his way to lean against the rough bark of the tree.

What the hell? What the hell?

Where was he? Nino looked around him, swallowing against the uncomfortable dryness of his throat, fighting to assess a hundred things at once.

Nino sat on the floor of the forest, clutching a blanket around his dirt caked body that shook from sudden panic. A gentle wind he was shielded from glided through the trees, rustling their leaves but otherwise leaving the forest in silence. As far as he could tell, he was in no part of the forest he recognized, tucked out of sight in a thickly tree ringed clearing. The high natural grass gave way to dark earth around the bases of the trees, and the bushes and creeping plants on the far side were bent and pushed aside. As if something huge had forced its way through and made no exit.

His heart pounded heavily in his chest, his hands twisted into fists around the fabric of the blanket as he tried desperately to think.

How did he get here? Where even was he?

Nino swallowed, bowing his head and trying to pull forth some memories, some kind of explanation. The last thing he remembered clearly... he-

He had been running.

Nino's eyes snapped open, a chill sweeping through him as the blind run through nightfall came rushing back to him. He remembered that.

He had been in so much pain, panicking and falling to the ground. He had tried to keep running, but he couldn't. Something had been... h-he...

Bones moving, s-skin crawling. His spine... shifted, pulling him into something else. He screamed but it hadn't been him, the sound was so twisted a-and... deep.

So much bigger then he should have been, every muscle split and sewn together in places they shouldn't have been. His face was so heavy and the forest had been so suddenly alive, pulling something out of him that shouldn't have been there. He wanted to believe it had been something else, something alien but it wasn't. It was him. And it consumed him.

Nino sat there, shaking in horror as he remembered something, something distant and overpowering like a nightmare. And as it rang out and through him he fought not to scream.

He remembered the last few seconds, as the pain reached its height. Everything was wrong, torn apart and misplaced and sewn together and wrong. He remembered the panting, so low and... primal, that the memory of it now sat in him and told him it was real. It wasn't just a nightmare, the moments before he fell into nothingness, the moments where he begged to nothing and no one heard.

It was real.

"What-," he managed aloud, his voice shaking and breaking as he looked around him. So far from home.

He didn't try to stop from crying now, the images before he lost everything so horrifying that he couldn't... he couldn't expect himself to just hold them in. He was just a kid, shaking with fear as he wretchedly whispered, "What am I..." A sob shook through him and he curled into himself, holding onto the blanket as if it was all he had. "What am I... help me, some-somebody please. Please. What's happening, I don't know whats-," his voice broke into sobs, calling out to no one. He was overcome by how in that moment, he was utterly alone. And he knew that he should be. He shouldn't be near anyone; he didn't even k-know what-

What he was.

He wasn't sure how long he cried, he had no way to tell. He had nothing, his phone had gotten lost somewhere along the way. His clothes had likely been destroyed he was lucky he even had the blanket...

It was then for the first time that he started attempting to consider where it had even come from. He had no memory of what had happened after he had- well... after. It was just darkness. However, if he had nothing then... why was he covered?

He sat up, his chest feeling hollow and his emotions numbed from exhaustion. He felt like he was underwater, completely distant now. It was likely his brains feeble attempt to protect him, cutting him off from the emotions that would destroy him should he continue. As he sat there now he felt nothing, utterly numb.

One mystery at a time...

He clung to the blanket in more ways than one, latching onto why it was there in an effort to distract himself from much bigger uncertainties. Instead he reassessed his surroundings, at least as far as he could see.

His eye sight really was awful... though in that moment it seemed better than it ever had been unaided in the past. He didn't stop to consider why, or why his shoulder no longer hurt or why, despite the aches, he felt... better. Better than the hot overpowering sickness from before at least, like it had just been building to what had happened then released once it took place, left to build until it happened again.

He shuddered at that, and stopped considering it completely. Survive the now... survive this first.

He looked around him as best he could, scanning the uniform darkness of the dirt in a dim hope of finding his glasses or anything else of his. And in a bewildered spike of relief, he found almost exactly that.

A short distance from where he had been lying was a neatly folded pile of clothes, with a pair of glasses left on top.

Nino moved the blanket so he could go to them, crawling forward and grabbing them up almost desperately, but stopped short when he realized they weren't his. None of it was. As he held the clothes close enough to see he didn't recognize any of them, all of them a size too large and bound to be baggy. The glasses were very similar but not his, the prescription off as soon as he put them on but... they were better than nothing.

He was naked in the woods... he'd take anything at this point.

Nino moved to get dressed, sifting through the pile to find a pair of boxers and starting from there, quickly pulling on worn old cargo shorts and a plain dark gray tank top. He was a little confused at the last thing, a sleeveless dark green jacket but he put it on anyways, grateful to have something, ineffective though it might be, to protect him from the chill.

If he had been confused as to the origin of the blanket he was now completely thrown by the presence of the clothing, clearly intended for him and left folded nearby.

It was safe to assume whoever had left the blanket left the clothes but...

Nino stood, his knees shaking as he struggled to pull himself together, feeling significantly better for being clothed but still unsteady.

There were no shoes left for him, his size probably too difficult to guess. He turned in a slow circle, trying to force himself to adjust to the mismatched prescription.

He could more clearly see the clearing he was in now, stepping away from the loamy earth of the trees and walking through the grass, looking up through the small break in the canopy and seeing snatches of a heavily clouded morning. When he looked back down to earth he tried to ignore the huge, subtle path through the grass. Leading directly to where he had been resting.

Nino took a weak, shaking breath, clinging to the numbness because he knew it was the only alternative to panic and fear.

With another unsteady breath he moved to settle his hands in the pockets of his jacket, mind reeling with thoughts of what to do next when his right hand collided with something.

Paper.

Nino quickly grabbed it, pulling out the smoothly folded pieces of notebook paper that had been left there. He felt his nerves squirm with nervous energy, sudden contact in a moment where he had expected none. His throat tightened when he unfolded it, finding it crammed with handwriting. It was a note, and it was addressed to him, in a way.

To the boy with the bite,

I'm sorry.

Nino swallowed, hands shaking slightly as he held the note, seeing it had so much to say but almost afraid to read it. But he had nothing else. This was the only thing that could perhaps tell him something. A note from whoever had known to bring him clothes, was likely to be someone who had known what would happen. And there had only been one person who seemed to know more about it then he did.

Figured I'd say it again, though there isn't much point. You won't forgive me, and you shouldn't. You'll hate me I get that. I hate the guy who did this to me, it's only fair that you hate me too. I understand it. No hard feelings. On my end, anyways.

I had wished so badly to have something when I first woke up, alone and naked with a lot of lost time can screw with you. And the change can be fairly traumatic too, obviously. I wanted to help, in what little ways I still could, so I thought a note and some clothes might be something. Not a lot but, something.

You're a werewolf now. Figured it would be best for you to just say it flat. Read the word a hundred times it's not changing anytime soon. I'm sure you'll think to yourself, 'werewolves aren't real' and I get that. I thought that too. However, you strike me as a smart kid, and I know I'll never forget the first time I changed so it's safe to assume you won't either. You know what happened. It scares the crap out of you but you saw it. You know I'm right.

There is a lot of horse crap about what we are and some stuff that's true, a lot of which you'll figure out as you go. Full moon=true, biting people to also make them werewolves, unfortunately, also true. I've never encountered wolfsbane so I don't know if that's true but to be safe just stay away from it.

Monsters are real kid, and they're everywhere. Not all of them are bad, some are though. Some are dangerous, and unfortunately a lot of them don't like us. They think we're dangerous, wildcards of the supernatural world, which is a bunch of crap. On every other night we're just us, but some people are prejudice. As a rule, if there is a myth, legend, or rumor among humans that it exists it probably does. Almost none of it is like how they say it is but at least most of them get the basics right.

You are what you are now, but we don't have to be monsters. I want to believe that, and I want to believe in you. You don't have to be the cursed animal we're supposed to be, a ruthless hunter. I don't know what I am... but I think you can be okay. I want to believe that. Maybe that's why I'm trying so hard to help you, or maybe I'm just guilty.

I didn't want to, for what it's worth. As it goes on sometimes you can kind of... wake up, during the moon. When I came too you were already pinned... I'm sorry. It was all I could do not to kill you. This isn't the best alternative but... you can make a life. You can be okay.

Even with that said though... you shouldn't go home. At least at first. For the first few months it's so new and your body is struggling to adjust. You aren't human anymore and they are, and I know how much that sucks. Seriously I'm the only other person around who does know what that's like, so even if you hate my guts at least take that. It's not safe. To even stay with them during the month and leave when the moon is full it's just... things are different now. Things in the dark know you're there. Monsters have a feel for when other monsters are around, and you could bring stuff towards you just by being there. You might be able to defend yourself but there is no guarantee you can defend them. It's safest to let them go.

Sorry if this is hard to read. I'm writing this while the sun is dropping. I need to go soon but I wanted to have stuff prepped for you. I don't know if any of this will fit but at least it's something.

You're young. You can live with this man; it doesn't have to destroy you. There are things out there, resources. It's scary and insane but you can be alright. Don't be the monster we're meant to be. I've made mistakes, I've fallen into this and I don't really see a way out. I lose more and more time, at this point I think I'm more of an animal then a person. It's my own fault, it isn't just the full moon that can make us a wolf. You can bring it about on its own, if you aren't careful. It's different, you don't lose control quite the same way but... It makes you feel so strong, I got addicted. I spent so much time on four legs instead of two that so often it became hard to remember anything about being human. I didn't want that, and I know I could have stopped it if I had been stronger. So I'm trying to give you the leg up I didn't have.

There are other monsters, and a fair chunk of them are good guys. You might not have your family anymore but don't let that mean you're on your own. Find people, find someone to keep with you to stabilize you. Being alone is the worst thing you can do for your sanity, but keeping company with humans isn't safe anymore.

This isn't the only realm, there are others. The world of humans is just one, though I don't think you'll be able to pass through any gates on your own for a while. I know that doesn't make sense but it's hard to explain. So I tried to do you one last favor. I'm hoping I actually get you this note in time, the first one is the worst and it takes the longest to come back from, so I think I'll be able to find you before you wake up but I'll write this out anyways.

I've heard rumors of a school in Paris, a place for little monster kids to learn stuff about themselves and the realms they can go to. I know it sounds stupid and like the plot of a Disney channel movie but just, go. Do it, don't be macho just go. It will save you kid, I'm serious. I would have done anything to have a place with answers when this happened to me.

I told them about you a week or two ago. I didn't know your name or really even what you looked like, I was still looking for you through town at the time. Searching for someone based off of who has a dog bite is hard. But still, I told them a new werewolf was going to be popping up somewhere in that area. They are keeping an eye out for you and will find you, but to make it easier, go to Paris. Like I said monsters can find other monsters, they'll find you.

Don't run, don't be scared. They aren't human but neither are you, they are there to help you. Listen to them, I know what you want more than anything right now is someone to tell you what to do so just go to Paris. Don't go home, don't even stop by, just leave. It hurts and it sucks and its wrong but it's the way it is now.

I'm sorry I ruined your old life. But maybe you can make a new one.

I probably won't ever see you again, and if I do you might try to kill me, which I get. I know it means nothing but I can't help but say it.

I'm sorry.

Go to Paris.

The letter wasn't signed, cutting off quickly with the handwriting getting more and more chaotic as it went, until the end was almost unreadable. She must have been cutting it close, spending the last few moments attempting to leave something for him.

He stood there, holding the letter in his hands as they shook. He was so numb, but his body still reacted.

The words of the note crashed down on him, sounding so completely insane but the only thing that was making sense. How could he be expected just to... just to read that he wasn't even human and just cope. How could he be expected to believe it... He had begged for answers, and this is what he had. A letter from the woman who had ruined his life, ripped everything from him and attempted to replace it with clothes and an apology. As if it could make up for what she was, what she had made him.

He knew it was true, and it ate at him. He fell to his knees and succumbed to it as his wall of numbness shattered, leaving rage and fear.

He could remember, dimly, tied up in the last few moments before he lost it all. Huge claws, the heaviness of a m-muzzle. A monster. A wolf. The images his brain couldn't process, the truth of what happened and how it couldn't be true twisted together and suffocating him.

Werewolf.

Werewolf.

MONSTER.

He screamed, ripping the pages apart and clutching them in his fists as he fell forward to lean on them. He was accosted with the memories of the pain, of the wolf who found him and tore him down, of the confusion and rage and fear.

It couldn't be real, it couldn't be, and it was. It was, it was all around him.

He could feel the things in him he couldn't explain, the awareness and strength he didn't understand. How everything was so vivid and close, how his teeth felt sharp when he grinded them against each other. The more he let his emotions consume him the stronger it got, and in a moment of horror he felt almost a ghost of the same pain that could snap his arms and make him something that shouldn't be real.

He felt something in his chest tighten, his breathing suddenly ragged and taut as he was faced with what he was. A monster, a monster, an animal. And as it consumed him, his body fought to make it fact.

He felt that same clutching horror, that same internal need to make him what he knew he was even as he felt the heat of sunlight on his back. He could feel it, just below the surface, the bow of his spine, the curve of his neck.

You can bring it about on its own, if you aren't careful.

The warning hit him, sweat coating his face as he started to pant, desperately trying to force it away. She had said it, in her letter. If he wasn't careful... if he wasn't controlled.

Nino struggled to stand, finding the motion stiff and uncomfortable and forced himself to straighten up. Even as he trembled he stood tall, willing himself to hold himself together. He was so aware of everything, of the smells and the sounds, of the forest, of what he was. As he focused on it it became harder to hold himself up, his body curving tightly and trying to force him to the ground. The disease that sat in him now wanted him to be right, wanted what he felt he was to be fact. She had warned him.

"I'm not an animal," Nino chanted to himself wretchedly, desperate now as the shaking grew worse. Sweat beaded on his skin as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, holding himself together. "I'm not, I'm a person. I'm Nino, I'm a person, I'm okay. I am not an animal; I am not a monster. I'm not, I'm not, oh god I'm not."

In a way it was begging, but he focused on it completely. Nino blocked out everything, screwing his eyes shut and flooding his mind with memories of home. Of his mother and father, of his dog, of his house. He thought of his bed and his things and his music, of school work and video games. He didn't think of the sharpness of his teeth, he didn't think of the scar on his shoulder. He didn't think of the letter or anything else, he just thought of home. And though it made him sad, though it hurt and burned to know he could never go back there he remembered what it meant to be human. And as it became his fact again, the shaking stopped.

He was panting still, exhausted as chilling sweat clung to him. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head and attempting to clear his thoughts.

After a few, terrifying moments, Nino nervously ran his tongue over his teeth. He found them flat, smooth and straight as they were meant to be. He ran a hand under his jacket and shirt, feeling along the orientation of his spine and laughing a nervous, breathy laugh as he found all as it should be.

"Got to be careful..." he muttered to himself, hands still shaking a little as they fell to his sides. "Have to be careful..."

He still felt as if he knew nothing, stood alone in the forest faced with what had changed. But there were still the things that were clear, or as clear as they could be.

The woman who had done this had tried to atone, telling him what she could. He was a werewolf, as horrifying and bizarre as it felt to admit it to himself, but what had just transpired only proved it. If he succumbed to the instincts, to the animal... that's exactly what he'd be. He had come so close; it had been right there.

He was alone, and his moment of weakness just proved it. He couldn't go home; it wasn't safe for them. It was dangerous... he was dangerous. He couldn't go home. And if the woman's warning had been true... then maybe everything else was true too.

Nino swallowed back fear, grasping blindly at the numbness inside of him that he needed to survive and started to walk. He had no direction, he didn't know where he was, he just needed to get out to the road.

What he would do... how he would eat or where he would sleep h-he... he didn't know.

But he needed to go to Paris. It was the only place that had answers now. With the letter torn and scattered in the grass the only direction he had left was the city, and whoever would find him once he was there.

Nino buried everything, locking away every thought and emotion as he paced barefoot through the forest. In that single, silent moment, he left them behind. His mother, his father... his home. He strode forward knowing he couldn't see them again, and in the silence of the forest...

He left them behind.