It has been years since they've experienced wolfsbane, but they've never forgotten the acrid, bitter scent it leaves behind in their nostrils. Like the tiniest grains of sand scratching against their nerves. Arte coughs, trying to escape the burning in their eyes and mouth. A noose is thrown around their neck, and their instincts kick in without even thinking about it. They swing wildly, hoping to catch whoever had laid this trap for them until a blow to the head makes them collapse like a sack of potatoes.
Then they're being pulled along like a dog on a leash, and it is all Arte can do to not pass out. "W-wai--" It's like their body knows where it is and the bubble they have been living in pops as they are dragged outside of Port Leiry's limits.
The splintering of bone rouses them from their wolfsbane-induced disorientation and Arte screams as their hip dislocates from its socket. The shift is wrong, different from the turn they've learned to live with over the years. Now, they can feel the curl of magic under their skin, digging its claws deeper into their body as it twists. Unnatural. It's faster, like the curse is eager to pull Arte back into its grip once more. / @huntercam @elysiumkerr