Every once in a while, this girl found herself making her way to Central Park. It was the only place where she felt that somebody like herself could truly disappear. Her friends could never know who she really was - what she really was. So, when nature called, she'd slip out into the night and vanish.
She enjoyed her days with her friends and her boyfriend, and even their nights out, but she enjoyed her nights alone just as much. They were nights of pure freedom. It's easy to disappear in New York as a person, but a lion is noticeable. This was why Central Park was her haven. It was a big place with plenty of growth and stealth was her specialty.
She finds a spot - dark and remote - and carefully removes all of her clothes, the cloth slipping off of a lithe athletic form. She would always be fit, it was just one of the many bonuses of what she was. Nonetheless, she folds her clothes into a neat pile and leaves it under a tree. A werelion's shift is powered by the sun, so a night-time shift is a bit more difficult. She appreciated the extra struggle. She was nowhere near as strong or fast of a shifter as her parents, so the practice would do her well. Her parents could practically shift in the blink of an eye - maybe two. It took her anywhere between 10 to 20 seconds. This was still a quick shift for her age and experience, but she always wanted to do better.
She closes her eyes, feeling the moonlight on her bare skin. It was merely a reflection of the sun, after all. She bathed in it for a moment before she began her shift from human to beast. Her long, light brown hair seemed to creep back into her skull as golden fur took its place, growing out of all of her follicles and covering all of her olive toned skin. Her bones were breaking to fit new forms, her face breaking out a muzzle, her nose flattening, her lips stretching to form the mouth of a lion and accommodating the muzzle. She tried counting during the pain of the shift, and came up with fifteen seconds. For a night shift, she was proud of herself.
She looked down at her hands - now plate-sized paws - in a form of loving bewilderment. It was as if she would never get used to it.
She shook as if she was a dog shaking off after a swim. In one fluid motion, she went from shaking to leaping forward, breaking into a sprint. Even in the leafy green of Central Park, she melted into the foliage, hiding expertly in the brush. She revelled in the feeling of the wind rushing through her fur as she ran to her heart's content, feeling the most alive that she had in the past few weeks.
But all good things must come to an end.
After ten minutes of pure ecstasy, it was time for her to head home. She never liked to be gone long, but she never liked to leave the park either.
She returned to her clothing, and shifted back to her normal form. She got dressed, jogged back to her large apartment building, and made her way up to her apartment. She soundlessly slid into bed beside her loving boyfriend, who was sound asleep and had been for a few hours now.
This was her routine; sneaking out when she had the urge once her boyfriend had already fallen asleep and returning without him ever noticing.
