A Terrible Night For A Curse || Nyb & Risu
@cursedspikes
The day preceding the arrival of a blood moon always stirred feelings of unrest within Nyb, resonating with the hated part of himself that lurked within. Quickening his pulse, sharpening his senses, hyper awareness of both himself and his surroundings flooded him. He all at once felt like he could accomplish anything, and the unshakeable impending sense of doom that came with the terrible knowledge of where this was all leading.
Inescapable.
Once again, Fate bound him by its cruel design. Loose gravel on the shoddy path paved for him sliced into his feet, and he trailed bloodied footprints as he pushed exhaustively onwards. Shackles tethered him strictly to this path. No matter how much he might desire a brighter, better future, fighting against the shackles inevitably only led to further despair.
“Hhhhkkkkkk...”
Wandering mindlessly down the street like this as the sun rode lower and lower in the sky, heralding in the dusk that would welcome in the dreadful night, Nyb’s blood began to react. Like it was bubbling, boiling, pricking at his veins. Heart racing, thumping almost painfully in his chest as the blood raced through his body. His vision swam with vibrant colors, nose assaulted with myriads scents. It made him feel sick. But still he pushed onwards, foam dripping from his mouth as he tried to just get to the abandoned outskirts of the town. There, he could minimize the damages.
But the night drew in much too quickly.
It wasn’t that his strength was failing him - on the contrary, his adrenal glands and heart were working overtime - but that the world outside began to fade, as the numbing darkness crept in to cast a shroud over his senses. This, too, was normal. And it meant he was out of time.
Fur, sleek and tan-brown, sprouted up to coat his skin. And as the lean muscles underneath expanded, giving his body new bulk, the simple t-shirt he’d worn that day burst apart at the seams, falling to the ground in tatters as the large shark fin emerged on his back. The leggings, too, never stood a chance against the sudden increase in mass, nor against that shark tail that shot out, thrashing.
“....rrrrrrrrr….”
From his throat emerged a low sound, like a growl. Lips pulled back into a snarl, showing off the rows of sharp, sharp teeth lining the pointed muzzle his face had stretched into. Pointed ears swivelled to catch the sounds floating around the city; sharp green eyes flitted about the darkening landscape, searching for signs of movement, signs of life.
Above, in that blackening sky, emerged a moon, tinged with the cursed red.
Towards this moon, the beast lifted his muzzle and loosed a shrill, vociferous howl.
