Had anyone dared set their foot outside of the school's warm, welcoming corridors, they would have seen more than just the shine of the full moon reflecting in the lake. They would have had to look far, as the peculiar mirror image was playing in the water furthest from the castle.

The owner of the reflection, however, was the only one watching the calm waves as they gently obscured his canine features in the lake.

There was nothing unusual about this creature roaming the school grounds. Once a month, in fact, deep, sorrowful howls could be heard under the cover of the night. Only, no one was ever there to hear them.

As a gentle breeze caught in the beast's fur, he sat down by the shore, tugging his tail neatly underneath his hind legs. He looked longingly at the moon, filled his lungs with air, and released the mournful cry that had been building up within him.

He sat there for a while, watching as the moon disappeared slowly behind a cloud, the first gentle streaks of morning fighting for its place in the sky. Suddenly, the wolf stood up and trotted across the ground towards the outskirts of a forest, where a large tree, his tree, was peacefully rustling its leaves. He did not hurry, but reached great speed none the less, as the lean, powerful body worked effortlessly beneath him.

He reached the willow and looked back across his shoulder, not even noticing the hard branches that soared through the air, hitting him, whipping him. These wounds were only minor bruises compared to the ones he himself had added earlier. Had anyone been there with him, they would have gasped at the blood that was now intertwined with the wolf's dusty brown fur.

But company did not befit a monster like this. Had any human been close enough to observe the beast, the animal instincts would have taken over once more, and they, too, would have been condemned to this monthly imprisonment, or, worse, would suffer a terrifying and painful death. The owl that now lay lifelessly in the thick of the forest was proof enough of that.

A thicker branch hit his shoulder, and even the hardened wolf could not restrain a quiet whimper. Remembering the owl, he decided that he'd caused enough death for a night, and did not bother to touch the root that would make even the tree lifeless. Instead, he suffered the pain of its lashings, wanting to be punished for the owl, and knowing that this was nothing compared to the pain he would be under as soon as the sun came up, and he transformed back into a weak, exhausted human being, who would wake up in an old, deserted house, feeling the pain to its fullest, having no one there to comfort him.