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Falling for Your Werewolf Form
墨書 Inktalez
The rain-soaked night in New York was as cold as an ice cellar.
The rain relentlessly pounded against me, making me feel like a drenched rat.
I tightened my thin coat around me and quickened my pace.
The sound of my high heels splashing in the puddles echoed like a chaotic march.
Suddenly, a faint whimpering came from a dark alley, piercing my heart like a needle.
My heart tightened, and my steps involuntarily slowed.
Curiosity and compassion battled within me as I hesitated, wondering whether to venture inside.
In the end, compassion triumphed over fear, and I cautiously stepped into the alley.
It was even darker and damper there, resembling another world.
A bloodied Little Wolf Dog curled up next to a trash can, shivering like a black ball of fur soaked by the rain.
It looked barely alive, its wounds horrifying to behold, blood staining its black coat like a brutal painting.
I gasped in shock, a wave of pity washing over me, warming me against the chill of the rainy night.
I gently approached the Little Wolf Dog, softly comforting it as if soothing a frightened child.
The Little Wolf Dog lifted its head slightly, its pair of wet eyes looking at me, filled with fear and helplessness, as if silently pleading for help.
I could no longer hold back; I bent down and picked up the Little Wolf Dog, cradling it like a precious treasure.
It was light, as light as a bundle of cotton, which made my heart ache even more.
Braving the heavy rain, I brought the Little Wolf Dog back to my small apartment, as if I were bringing home a new hope.
I washed its wounds with warm water and bandaged it with a clean towel, treating it as if I were caring for an injured angel.
The Little Wolf Dog seemed to sense my kindness; it licked my hand and let out a low whimper, as if expressing its gratitude.
I named it Vito, a simple yet warm name.
In the following days, Vito's appetite was astonishing; it nearly devoured all my food, like an insatiable little monster.
Moreover, it had a peculiar reaction to the moon.
Every nightfall, it would become unusually active, letting out low growls towards the moon, as if engaging in some mysterious ritual.
I felt confused; I had never seen such a strange dog before, which filled me with curiosity about Vito's true identity.
What surprised me even more was the astonishing speed at which Vito's wounds healed.
In just a few days, the wounds on his body had scabbed over, leaving almost no trace behind, as if it were a miracle.
I began to doubt Vito's true identity, a strange premonition lingering in my heart.
One night, I discovered Vito howling at the moon, his body undergoing a peculiar transformation, as if he were undergoing some kind of metamorphosis.
His fur became denser, and his eyes turned into an eerie silver, resembling two shining stars.
I was so frightened that I stumbled backward, realizing that Vito might not be an ordinary dog.
This realization shocked me. I quickly opened my computer and searched for relevant information online, as if seeking a key to unravel the mystery.
I typed in keywords like "transforming dog," "silver eyes," and "moon," hoping to find some clues.
The search results left me astounded, as if a door to an unknown world had suddenly swung open.
The webpage displayed various legends about werewolves and descriptions of their transformations, seemingly confirming my suspicions.
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