He wanted them; he wanted those humans so badly it hurt. He wanted to sink is teeth through flesh muscle and bone, he wanted to crush their skulls between his powerful jaws, he could do it, he’d done it before, he just had to get away. The wolf’s body lunged even within the steely grip that had him by the scruff of the neck, the movement felt strange, the momentum all wrong and suddenly his feet were on the ground, his entire body lurching forward with a vicious snarl, still trying to get at the mortals that were no longer there. He didn’t get far, the grip on his neck had changed and just as he started running something jerked him back and prevented him from getting very far at all, something that was strong, something that burned.
The wolf was yelping and whining without the awareness that it was himself making the sound and without knowing that their surroundings had changed, there was only pain, pain that blinded him, pain that felt even worse than the change. Whether it was by luck or mere odd chance neither Casper nor his wolf had ever been unfortunate enough to come into contact with silver until that moment, it hurt, it hurt worse than anything the little wolf could ever imagine, it wasn’t something he could ignore or grow used to, he needed to get away, his neck was burning, he was going to burst into flames.
Irrational, afraid and blinded by pain, the werewolf tugged and pulled, trying vainly to get away from what was hurting him, he was strong, he knew that, strong enough to break a chain and run free but it just wasn’t happening and he didn’t understand why. He jumped up on his hind legs, head and body twisting in panic as he tried to rid himself of the collar before turning his attention to the chain keeping him against the wall. He didn’t think, didn’t even pause to question what he was about to do as he brought powerful teeth slamming down against the metal, trying to bite through it. Bad idea. It felt as though his teeth were shattering, pain radiating from them up into his gums, infecting his jaw and all the way down his throat. Silver. Instinctively, even though he’d never come into contact with it before he knew, it was there in the back of his mind, the knowledge buried deep in the very depths of his genetic make up. Silver was bad. His precious, beloved moon, harnessed as a weapon.