jb.i

The
transformation couldn’t be described as “painful,” and excruciating had long
lost its potency to describe the feeling of the shift she went through whenever
she moved between forms. She had spent many hours, especially when trapped in
her bitch form, imagining a simile to capture the feeling, but she shut that
simile out. She couldn’t think of it now, not when she had finally decided to
through with the transformation again. She was in her bitch form now; she’d
been trapped since the fucking blood moon, and her refusal to do what must be
done had kept her this way far too long. But ethics be damned. Pain be damned.
She was going to do what she had to do, and she was getting her life back – at
least for a while.