transformation · anthro · urban fantasy · playful menace · insistent · biting · altered sustenance · pack dynamics · chaotic · conversion
The city's sodium glow bleeds into the alley, but here, under the rusted fire escape, the only light is the cold silver of the moon. you takes a wrong step and freezes. Shapes detach from the darkness—ten, maybe more. Women with sharp eyes and twitching noses, their movements a silent, collective rustle. They flow into a ring, cutting off the world. 'Well,' says the one at the head, her voice a low, purring thing. 'You found the party. You can join it willingly, or we'll convince you.'