The Wolfs Curse A Hidden Truth (On Hold)

Scars that will never heal

A fourteenth year old Sabine crept quietly through the halls of the Ghost. Being even more silent as she passed Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus's cabins. She knew they were quite light sleepers so she had to be careful. One wrong move and her secret was blown. It wasn't that she didn't like the two older rebels. They took her in after she ran from the Imperial Academy, gave her shelter, food, and a home. She did trust them, but what she had hidden needed to remain a secret. The Mandalorin cringed when she felt an awful growing and prickling sensation running throughout her right arm. Looking down, she saw it had gotten longer and nightshade blue and indigo fur was sticking out from it. Her hand had turned into a paw with thick black pads and sharp claws. Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, Sabine quickened her pace. If this transformation happened inside the Ghost, what would happen? She'd lose control, she could kill Hera or Kanan in a matter of seconds.

'No' she told herself sternly.

'You have to resist the temptation for blood. Remember what happened last time you got loose. You killed so many innocent people.' 

The teen shuddered at the memory. After she ran from the Imperial Academy, she'd changed and went on a rampage. Murdering so many beings and creating havoc. Destroying everything she saw as a threat. She almost killed her own brother who'd tried to stop her. Gritting her teeth to hold back tears, Sabine recalled pinning Tristen Wren down and biting her brother harshly in the shoulder. Blood pulsed from the wound like a never ending red river, soaking Tristen's clothes and leaving marks on Sabine's paws. Even though those marks weren't visible from the outside, they hurt deeply from the inside. No matter what, the invisible scars she'd made were the ones that hurt the most. Her paws and claws were a painful reminder of what she'd done. After sinking her fangs into Tristen, she bolted. Leaving him to die of blood loss. Sabine knew he'd survived but couldn't bear the thought of seeing him again. What if she successfully murdered him? Sabine clenched her left fist.

'I've made scars' she thought.
'Scars that will never heal. No matter what I do.'

Silently going down the ladder, Sabine pressed a button and the ramp opened. The cool night air blew her orange and blue hair back. Walking down the ramp, Sabine rested a hand on the edge of the entry hall and looked up. The midnight blue sky was dotted with silver stars and misty clouds. Resting in the middle of the beautiful scene was a full, golden moon. It was large and let off a romantic light. But in Sabine's opinion, a full moon only brought her pain. As if to prove a point, a wave of agaony swept down the girl's legs almost making her collapse. Clutching the ramp's edge, Sabine steadied herself then glanced over her shoulder.

'I need to get as far away from the Ghost as possible' she thought.

'The transformation commences faster in the moon's gaze.'

With that in mind, Sabine sprinted across the deserted plains of Bespin. Remembering where the Ghost was, the girl ran like the wind. For nearly ten minutes straight, Sabine was running. Trying to find a cavern of some kind to transform peacefully. Where no one would be in danger of her. Suddenly, without warning, pain shot through her entire body. Stumbling onto her knees, Sabine gasped as she felt hairs sprouting from her back. Clutching her head, Sabine whimpered as ears began rising from her skull. She felt something growing from her behind and knew it was her tail. She shut her eyes, resisting the urge to roll around on the ground like a lunatic. Her legs became even lengthened​ and her fingernails turned into sharp, lethal claws. Kneeling over entirely, Sabine was on all fours as the transformation completed itself. Eyes opening, Sabine's pupils were diluted and a dark amber. Mad urges to sink her teeth into flesh came without warning. The craving for blood and bones erupted. This was how it was all the time. The mad desire to distribute death. The feeling of savageness and the incapability of being tamed.

Tipping her head back, the wolf gave a long howl to the full moon.