Post by Emile Avaant on Sept 7, 2012 14:25:36 GMT -5
Emile really need to get away.
The urge to get out of the city - or, out of the main hustle and bustle - was almost a solid knot in his stomach. It had taken him a while, but with no school or any other responsibilities anymore, Emile had nothing but time. The boy enjoyed the experience - but more pressingly, at the back of his mind he knew he hadn't changed in a few days. He couldn't control it, it came over him, but he wanted it. It felt so good, so right, that being denied it was horrible. He didn't even realize he was in farmland until he saw the small house in the distance. There. People. People he could eat. He was hungry, then thing was pressing at the back of his mind and he wanted it so badly. It was a solid knot in his stomach and his head. The boy turned, rushing into the nearby cover of a grove of trees, shrugging off his clothes. It was early evening; surprisingly warm considering it was nearing the end of summer.
He closed his eyes and pushed; feeling the first tingles that went before the agony. He shivered, willing it to come - but nothing happened. He gave a small frustrated sound and tried again, closing his eyes and willing himself to transform. To hunt. To get the good feelings again. It wasn't - to Emile - a case of right and wrong. No, those concepts had began to erode away, as had his humanity. The wolf was so strong, so pressing, that Emile craved it. It was beyond agony, but what happened after was worth it. He tried again and again, pushing himself to transform - but got nothing but tingles. After fifteen minutes he was reduced to frustrated tears as he sunk to the floor and pushed again and again.
"Come on!" He growled in frustration as those tears rolled down his cheeks. He pounded the ground in frustration with his fists as he continued to try and bring it out, to transform himself into the beast. Then he'd rush across the field, break in and-
But with those images the need only grew and so did Emile's frustration. It was driving him mad; he was sobbing and pushing, looking rather pathetic. It was sad, really, that one so young was taken so strongly by the urge - but Emile couldn't help it. It was just how it was.
The urge to get out of the city - or, out of the main hustle and bustle - was almost a solid knot in his stomach. It had taken him a while, but with no school or any other responsibilities anymore, Emile had nothing but time. The boy enjoyed the experience - but more pressingly, at the back of his mind he knew he hadn't changed in a few days. He couldn't control it, it came over him, but he wanted it. It felt so good, so right, that being denied it was horrible. He didn't even realize he was in farmland until he saw the small house in the distance. There. People. People he could eat. He was hungry, then thing was pressing at the back of his mind and he wanted it so badly. It was a solid knot in his stomach and his head. The boy turned, rushing into the nearby cover of a grove of trees, shrugging off his clothes. It was early evening; surprisingly warm considering it was nearing the end of summer.
He closed his eyes and pushed; feeling the first tingles that went before the agony. He shivered, willing it to come - but nothing happened. He gave a small frustrated sound and tried again, closing his eyes and willing himself to transform. To hunt. To get the good feelings again. It wasn't - to Emile - a case of right and wrong. No, those concepts had began to erode away, as had his humanity. The wolf was so strong, so pressing, that Emile craved it. It was beyond agony, but what happened after was worth it. He tried again and again, pushing himself to transform - but got nothing but tingles. After fifteen minutes he was reduced to frustrated tears as he sunk to the floor and pushed again and again.
"Come on!" He growled in frustration as those tears rolled down his cheeks. He pounded the ground in frustration with his fists as he continued to try and bring it out, to transform himself into the beast. Then he'd rush across the field, break in and-
But with those images the need only grew and so did Emile's frustration. It was driving him mad; he was sobbing and pushing, looking rather pathetic. It was sad, really, that one so young was taken so strongly by the urge - but Emile couldn't help it. It was just how it was.
