The urge overcame him. With a thunder crack loud enough to split delicate ears, a heavy wind rolled in, dark clouds swept from the sky with its intensity. Moonlight scrawled across the heavens untethered, it was the full moon.

The ritual had not been completed, he was not ready. Not prepared. His loping trample took him through the brambles meant to protect her, in the house, from him.

A slight hum enveloped him. She was singing, her lilting voice sweeter than bees honey, calling him. Calling him to her. He waited, preparing to leap on her the moment she drew closer.