The day she'd dreaded had come to pass sooner than Erica would have liked. Way sooner. The feral, snarling werewolf that was throwing herself against the cage was nowhere near resembling the woman that had walked into it the night before, not fully prepared for the onslaught that was raging it's torment on her anxiety levels. But, nevertheless, she'd done what needed to be done. She'd walked into the cage and that was where she'd slept in preparation for the festivities of, what the residents in Vallo were calling, "Moon Day".
The wolf had reared it's ugly head the moment the moon had become full, eyes alight in that golden wash, fangs, claws, and extra hair soon accounted for as well. The strength with which the wolf threw itself at the bars holding it was scary and, had Erica been on the outside looking in, she may have wondered how the hell the wolf remained in one piece.
There were snarls and roars, scents that overloaded her senses—familiar, but not at the same time due to the fact that Erica's human brain was not exactly functioning as it should—the clanging of claws and body against the bars of the cage.
At least Kate had seen this before. For her brother, if he found his way down here, it would be something new. But Kate was privy and that was all that really mattered when Erica walked into the cage the previous night.
Now, none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except escape from the cage that held her. Escape and rending the meat from anything that the wolf deemed food. She was hungry. She was angry. She was captive.