Young Writers Society

"As we walked, Izzy opened the vial, and the scent of pine tar, walnuts, and tobacco filled my nostrils, almost like a campfire cologne. But there was something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Izzy scrunched up her face. I could tell she was trying to figure out the miscellaneous ingredient. It was very unique."

"I needed to set aside my anger, it was still clouding my mind. I was miffed about the human meat comment. It was the first time I had turned into a werewolf, and I had no control over it. I remember the taste and the intoxication—it was like a drug."

"As I slipped into my daydream, Izzy smacked me upside the head. “Hey Sarah, snap out of it, new blood.” I glared at her, and she just gave me a toothy grin. “I know you're angry about the human meat comment, but you need to pull your shite together.” She pointed at my hand where my claws were manifesting, the points menacingly razor-sharp."

"I know, I know," I replied, with a hint of annoyance. "Strong emotions can trigger the change. I've been a werewolf for a year now."

Izzy's voice carried a touch of nagging, but also genuine concern. "You need to learn to control your emotions better, Sarah. That's twice in twenty-four hours now." Her words resonated with me. Despite having lived with this condition for a year, I still struggled to master my emotions. It was a constant battle to keep the wolf at bay, especially when faced with situations that provoked strong feelings.

Izzy's tone softened, carrying more understanding and a soothing quality. "I understand it's still challenging to control your emotions, especially now. Being thrown into this life the way you were... it's no easy feat. But remember, we're among people who could easily kill us if they feel threatened. You really scared Xavier and his auntie." Izzy's words were a gentle reminder of the delicate balance we had to maintain, not just for our own safety, but for the safety of those around us.

I remained silent, lost in my thoughts, as we walked in silence for a while. As we crested the hill, a distinct smell of chewing tobacco wafted from the trees, and I noticed a splatter of spit on the ground. Continuing a few more steps, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to allow my heightened senses to fully engage

I focused intently, separating all the scents mixed together. Then, I heard Izzy muttering to herself about "eucalyptus and tea trees." She started to address me, "Hey Sarah..." I raised my hands a tad rudely, cutting her off for quiet. I was locking in on that scent.

As I opened my eyes, I could see it in the air—the metaphorical scent moving like waves of smoke. The wolf woke up in my head, roaring and scratching at the walls of my mind, demanding to be let out. For only the second time ever, I had to battle for control.

I thought to myself that they wouldn't have given us these nice clothes if they knew we could tear them apart when we transform. To heck with it, I'm doing it. Examining the stitching of my clothes, I noticed the cleverly hidden pull cords on my trousers, allowing them to stretch with me. It was the same with the button-up shirt. In short, they would stretch to accommodate my transformation.

I removed my gun belt and wore it bandolier style. Izzy followed suit, then remarked, "Come on, Sarah, they just gave us these clothes, and they are literally the nicest thing I own now."

I smiled at Izzy, my sharp canines falling into place. With a gravelly edge to my voice, I said, "Trust me."

Part 2

I watched in awe as Sarah shot off like a bullet, her body shifting seamlessly into her wolf form. It was a sight to behold, her mastery of the rapid transformation. It was a skill that required immense stamina and was accompanied by pain, a fact that only made her display more impressive. A twinge of envy tugged at me as I thought to myself, "Show off." Despite having been a werewolf for about a year and a half longer than Sarah, I was still grappling with the Rapid shift of forms.

As I finally managed to change enough to start running, all I could see was the white dot of her fur disappearing into the distance. I let out a roar and took off after her, but she was nowhere in sight. She was leaving an obvious trail, yet I couldn't tell if I was making any headway; her scent still lingered heavily in the air, a mix of lavender, musk, and wet dog. Then, signs of her footprints began to fade, slowly at first, then disappearing altogether.

Despite the fading trail, her scent was still overpowering, guiding me as I continued the chase. I began to slow down, my claws digging into the ground, carving deep ruts as I came to a stop. I turned my eyes and head, scanning the surroundings, searching for any sign of her.

I could still sense her presence, the unmistakable scent of lavender and wet dog lingering in the air. I knew she was close, Then, just as suddenly as she had vanished, a weight crashed into me, sending me spinning. White-gray fur filled my vision as I found myself sprawled on the ground, looking up at the canopy of trees above. Sarah had circled back and pounced on me with the precision of a seasoned hunter. Her thoughts invaded my mind, a taunt laced with camaraderie, "Come on, keep up."

In a swift motion, I threw my leg back toward my head, then rapidly propelled them forward to jump back up. I snarled, growling as I forced my thoughts out, "Oh, you bitch!"

Sarah pranced around me, her laughter echoing in my ears. But the sound that reached me was a series of rapid growls, nothing like a human laugh. She taunted me further, "What are you going to do about it?"

Her playful challenge ignited a fire within me. I was not one to back down, especially not to Sarah's provocations. With a fierce determination, I prepared to show her just what I was capable of. The game was on, and I was more than ready to prove my mettle.

Her thoughts reached out, clear and commanding, "This way." I attempted to respond, but she was already gone, a white blur vanishing into the distance, undoubtedly out of range.

I exerted myself, my limbs propelling me forward, sending dirt and earth flying in my wake. My muscles rapidly contracted and expanded, my breaths coming in quick, heavy bursts. I closed the gap, gaining on her with every stride. Dirt pelted my face as I pushed harder, determined not to let her slip away again.

Then, in a swift motion, she dropped her shoulder and rolled, springing up like a jackrabbit. Whether she threw herself at me or I was simply hurtling towards her, the result was the same. We crashed into each other with bone-shattering force, a collision so intense that, had we been ordinary beings, we would have surely broken something. But we were far from ordinary, and the impact, though jarring, was just another testament to our extraordinary nature.

We untangled ourselves as quickly as we could, but before I could fully regain my footing, Sarah was off again. The game of cat and mouse continued, but it was time I taught this new blood a new trick.

I exerted myself once more, sending dirt flying behind me as we made tracks. My breath came quickly again, my limbs pounding the earth like a blacksmith at the forge. I could Feel her wake t hitting my face again, and then, acting quickly, I started moving vertically while moving forward. I climbed a tree and began jumping from tree to tree until I saw my opportunity and threw myself at her, landing on top of her for a change. I tackled her to the ground and dragged her back to the dirt, and we ground to a halt at the feet of our quarry.

A deep chuckle reverberated through the air. "Judging by the clothes you two are wearing and getting dirty, you two hounds are Izzy Fang and Sarah Fang, formerly Sarah Caliban."

Part 3

I fought to regain my composure as I watched Izzy and Sarah, two formidable creatures, engage in a literal game of cat and mouse while hunting me. For countless years, I had been the hunter, stalking creatures like them, but witnessing this different side of them was a transcendental experience.

They both stood up, baring their teeth for a moment, eyeing me warily. It was a sight that sent a shiver down my spine. "Working with you in Chicas is going to be a very interesting experience for sure," I remarked, trying to mask my unease with a hint of humor.

I walked around them both, their glowing eyes following my every move, peering into my very soul. "Please don't change back yet," I requested. "I want to see if I can tell you two apart."

I focused on the slightly shorter wolf with brownish-orange fur. Her teeth were still bared as she emitted a low, guttural sound that resonated in my gut. Her fiery, gold-amber-yellow eyes stared straight through me, revealing a depth that spoke of great pain and violence, both endured and inflicted. This was unmistakably Izzy.

Shifting my attention to the slightly taller of the two, I observed her white-gray fur covering her body. Her amethyst purple eyes, still adapting to this new world, held a layer of naivete, yet they had seen some things. As strange as it might sound, there was a layer of innocence on this cursed creature, a stark contrast to Izzy's hardened gaze.

"Vale, bestias del infierno, creo que sé quién es quién, señoras," (OK, hell beasts, I think I know who is who, ladies) I remarked, Spanish rolling off my tongue as I acknowledged my ability to distinguish between the two.

The transformation that followed was a spectacle of the grotesque and the miraculous. Bones cracked, and flesh contorted as the ladies shifted forms, a sight that was as revolting as it was mesmerizing. I fought back the bile rising in my throat, a testament to the raw, unbridled power of their nature.

Izzy, now in her human form, gave me a look of mild irritation. "I don't speak Spanish, Drengr," she retorted with a hint of haughtiness. She held up her tattered pants, her tone shifting to one of lament, "They were so nice."

Sarah then added, "Hey, they're made especially for us. Look at the waistband on both your hips. There's a hidden drawstring under the material there."

I walked away, turning my back to give them some privacy, and spoke. "Tía Everclear modified a few pairs of pants and shirts to accommodate your shifting. You'll have to work at it for a minute, but if you tug at it, your clothes should fit properly again." I heard movement behind me to my left and right, then the clatter of weight hitting the ground, followed by the sound of soil moving around.

Then Izzy walked into my line of sight. Her pants were adjusted and stayed up on their own. Her gun belt was slung over her shoulder as she worked on one side of her shirt. Open to the air. My face began to warm as she was unabashed in her actions.

She asked, unashamed and nonchalant, "How much planning went into asking us beasties to join you?" She locked eyes with me, and I found myself trying to look anywhere but forward, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

Izzy spoke again, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Listen, I won't make it a habit, but if you're going to work with us, you can't get embarrassed or break concentration when you see us naked. In a fight, I will shift forms, especially if it'll give me an advantage. Hint: I will use my looks as a weapon. They're just tits."

I looked forward, taking in the sight of her toned stomach, marked with crisscrossing scars. Her skin in that area was lighter than the rest of her body, a testament to the battles she had faced. As she ran her hands through her short dark brown hair, I couldn't help but admire her resilience.

She then stepped forward, breaking my reverie. "Now, help me with this damn drawstring," she demanded, bringing me back to the task at hand.