The full moon.
Gods how he hated it.
Most other aspects of his "curse" he'd come to accept and understand-- even enjoy-- but the sway that the moon held over him would forever be his greatest bane, his greatest weakness.
Elyan had managed to seclude himself away from any nearby towns or villages before the sun set, deep within the familiar embrace of the forests. He hoped it would be enough-- he hadn't attacked anyone in his "feral" form in nearly two years, but the risk was always there.
The change was painful, as it always was. Nothing like the smooth shiver from man to wolf and back again during the rest of the month. This was bones and flesh tearing, muscles morphing, his whole body rent asunder and twisted back together again but wrong.
By the time the moon had risen, the transformation was complete. The lycanthrope paced through the trees, walking bipedal but hunched forward, front paws nearly touching the ground, prepared to spring forward onto all fours at a moment's notice.
A scent tickled his nose and he huffed, jerking his head toward it. Another wolf?
Instinct rose up in him, demanding he drive the intruder away. With a low growl, he fell forward onto his front paws and began loping off through the trees.