Once he had entered town, he found a quiet place on the other side of the river, away from the majority of the crowds. There, an abandoned shack was used for his full moon phases. A few days each month, he went there, to be alone. Despite his recent conversation with Cypress, he still felt the need to seperate himself, and not be near a pack. Sure, she was different, but she wasn't in a pack either. Maybe that was the key. Maybe it wasn't being a wolf that caused the monstrous behaviour, maybe it was being in a pack. He didn't know for sure, but at the time, that was the idea he was going with.
Once at the shack, he stripped down, and folded his clothes on a small cot. He'd then step outside, and take a deep breath of the night air. He wondered if there would ever be a day when this would not hurt so much, but put that thought aside as he relaxed himself in his ever continuing efforts to do this as calmly as possible. However, in his mind, he had that feeling that it would never hurt any less. This thought entered his mind right as his bones started shifting in position, reshaping into the position, size, and shape needed for his other form. A thick layer of congealed goo coated his body, and splattered onto the ground as he finished the shift, and fell to all four feet. His body, instinctively, gave a shake afterword, shaking off any remaining goo.
The brown beast stood there, looking around for a moment before he'd begin his wandering. Food was the primary need, for the beast was hungry, even though Will himself ate only a few hours ago. He thought if he ate closer to when he shifted that he may not need to feed, but ... well, that wasn't the case. He was still hungry, and he would still need to hunt. Another poor deer would probably become his dinner. While he enjoyed venison, it just didn't have the same allure when raw, and yet at the same time, he couldn't help but love it in his wolven form. It was a disturbing feeling. 'Since the change, I find I prefer my meat rare now, raw even. Perhaps, struggling....' The thought that ran through his mind disturbed him as well. Despite having so much control over what he did, the instincts and tendencies of what he was now frightened him to the core. He merely hoped he didn't turn into ... them; the pack from Carlisle.
He felt so out of place here, this not being the prime location he would prefer being what he was. Of course, that thought referred to what he was before being turned. And even though he was turned, he still considered himself a Druid, though his focus on those abilities had become somewhat lax on the broader scheme, and more focused on how they could help him as a Wolf. These thoughts continued to run through his mind, as he wandered the woods and swamps in search of food.
