It was hard to tell if the sounds around them — leaves dropping in the forest, distant birds calling — were louder or quieter than normal, because to Serena, everything sounded muffled. It wasn't the peace of the woods she felt — it was pressure building. Because in her form, the Onyx wolf lived there, always. It thrummed through her veins, a shadow pulse beat of not hers. Now it was louder, banging about the walls of her head, demanding to be heard, demanding to be let out.
