Kyle had to laugh. "It sounds wike I'm a cawtoon wolf or something! 'Hewwo?'" If he tried hard enough, he could pronounce his R's and L's properly, but the gauze packed in the back of his mouth combined with being numb made talking to his mom more like talking to a pet. "I feew wike one too with my tongue feewing ginowmous." Kyle swallowed. He couldn't taste any of the tools and needles used on him during the procedure, but he was already tired of tasting iron whenever blood touched the un-numbed bit of his tongue.

Mom sped up to pass around the car in front of them. "What was that? Oh, right. That guy kept cutting me off. Yeah, it's like that for a while. It made me think recovery wouldn't be so bad -- which it wasn't, until everything they shot into my gums wore off. It hurts; trust me. After I drop you off at home, I'm going to head to the pharmacy right away and get the prescriptions filled."

The end of the month was coming up fast, and Mom hadn't said anything yet about catching up with some friends. Whatever the pain would be like he next few days, it couldn't be that bad that Kyle would need her by his side the whole time. That would be silly. He felt little during the surgery other than pressure in his skull when his upper teeth were being scraped out; even then, it was just a feeling, not painful.

Mom turned onto another street. Kyle put on a pair of sunglasses so the sun wouldn't burn his eyes.

---

"I'm going to get your stuff now! Bye, Kyle!" The medicine cabinet rattled as the front door shut. After taking a detour on the way home, they got caught in a traffic jam, so the hour-long reminder Kyle set on his phone after the surgery went off as soon as he set foot inside. Replacing the gauze often was important, but how could it suck up an hour's worth of blood without becoming useless long before?

Taking one of the packs out of his mouth took longer than taking a tooth out. He couldn't open wide, the area around it was swollen, the sutures binding his empty sockets shut would likely tear under any pressure, and his recently-trimmed fingernails kept sliding off the squishy, slimy blob instead of digging in.

Kyle could tell he took them out correctly, at least, when he placed them on the edge of the sink -- two dark red chunks that chilled him when he looked at them -- unlike putting the new gauze in, which never quite sat quite right. Every slight adjustment he made with his disgusting fingers worsened the feeling.

Using one hand to illuminate his dark mouth in the mirror with his phone's flashlight and another to peel back his lips, he checked if the gauze was actually in correctly. Despite what his gut said, they covered his missing teeth just fine. Funny how numbed nerves still managed to talk, sending lies instead of senses. The gauze was already coated in saliva and reddened.

Feeling weak in more than just his face, Kyle made his way out of the bathroom and into bed, his phone screen being the only source of light once the door was shut. Due to the back of his mouth being stuffed, he left his lips cracked open. Good thing it wasn't summer, where bugs would fly inside through an air conditioning box and then into his vulnerable mouth. Not wanting to injure his sockets, he piled his fluffiest pillows beneath his head and held his phone out toward the ceiling instead of to the side. His arms grew tired after a short time, so he sat up to use it on his lap.

After messaging some people about how he had the wisdom sucked out of him, Kyle browsed social media, scrolling by pictures of dinners and shaky videos of nothing happening. Like a number of shows, it was mainly filler with not a lot interesting going on. It was worth it, though, for the few posts that actually held his attention for a moment or two before being swiped away. The mayor made some statement that some people were upset about, but the statement itself was nowhere to be found. One of his teacher's aunts was now a mother; he would need to congratulate her sometime. And, there was going to be a full moon tonight. He wondered when the next blue moon would be.

Having had his fill, he put the phone aside and slumped back down. Kyle was aware of his molars now, dull pulsing greeting him as the gums holding them woke up. With each heartbeat, however, the message became more sinister, turning into displeasure and then outright hostility, threatening to tear his jaws apart in revenge for losing four of their number. He crawled out of bed, cupped the sides of his face with his hands, and way to the kitchen. Thankfully, the anti-inflammatory bottle was still lying out on the counter, a forgotten reminder to take some when he got back. Did he ever need to take them before for anything other than headaches?

Kyle drank some water to swallow down the pills with. Hopefully, he wouldn't throw up before they took effect. He took another gulp of water, slowly swished it around his mouth, and leaned over to drivel out the remaining blood and saliva he didn't swallow with the water. Spitting could disrupt healing. After enough of the mess -- still red, but brighter than the gauze from earlier -- came out for his liking, he wiped the hanging strand onto his shirt and replaced his hands by his teeth.

He looked down at his shirt. Of course, he was the one with the wolf on it -- his favorite. It shouldn't be ruined, though; the blood should come out in the wash. Since this wouldn't be the only time he would be needing to use his shirt today, he decided to keep it on. It would also fit with the full moon.

Back in his room, the only way Kyle could tell his eyes were open was by the presence of little dots twitching around in the darkness. Tears ran down his sore face, adding to the swamp in his throat when they reached his mouth. "Pwease, Mom, where are you, come home awweady..." He wasn't laughing. The pain was his world -- there was nobody here to hear, and all he could smell whenever his nose wasn't clogged was his own misery.

Kyle couldn't remember the last time he cried from physical pain. The more he did, the hungrier he grew, and more blood and saliva filled his mouth. How many calories were in blood? If only he could lose enough of it to go unconscious, to be free from the pain. He wasn't sure if he whimpered or giggled, but whatever it was only drove in the weight on his skull further.

All he wanted was to make the pain go away. And eat. And his mother to comfort him and tell him it would all be over soon. Oh, and the bleeding, the horrible bleeding and swelling...

Drying his eyes with a damp sleeve, Kyle searched for his phone and checked the clock. It was almost time to replace the gauze again, but that would be impossible. He put the phone down. Somehow, so much time had passed wallowing in pain, yet so little had actually elapsed. Or was it the other way around? He wasn't sure which way was the truth.

He needed to get up. He needed to do something, anything, to distract himself from the ceaseless pain. Grabbing onto the edge of his blankets, he shuffled himself out, careful not to destroy the bed.

His phone dinged. Was it Mom, relief in her hands, letting him know she was coming home? No. It was just the hourly reminder to go do what he couldn't do right now. He disabled the reminder and walked to the window.

Kyle rolled up the blinds -- which involved pulling them down -- and gave the window a shove. Cold air shot through, working its feeble magic on his inflamed cheeks. He should be applying an ice pack to one of the sides of his mouth, but he never could stand having his hands frozen. Lightheadedness set in as he stood, mentally exhausted from the pain, so he slipped back into bed.

The moon was beautiful, and it shared its beauty with all it touched, giving his surroundings a ghastly blue glow. Neither natural trees nor man-made buildings blocked its path -- it dominated the sky, burning a hole through the clouds just to shine on him. The dark blotches on its fair surface were scars and healing bruises, showing that it knew what it was like to be hurt and desired only to comfort Kyle, to take his own pain away.

They stared at each other, unblinking. Kyle's dry eyes burned at first, but the moon melted it into warmth. He was back in the surgical room again, the nitrous oxide flowing into his nose and a heavy blanket being laid atop him. The same warmth and dull tingling spread over his body. A lunar hug.

Come to me, it almost beckoned as he floated under the covers. Doesn't it feel nice? Leave your pained body...

Kyle's trance broke with a blink, yanking back into reality. He became aware of his stinging eyes, still throbbing teeth, empty stomach... and warm body. Uncomfortably warm. He was fine for the preceding hour, and the silence in the house meant the furnace wasn't on. In fact, he should have gotten colder, seeing as the sun had been retreating all the time.

Did the moon really leave part of its presence on him? Come to think of it, even though he wasn't disconnected anymore, he did feel a bit fuzzy under his blankets and clothes. No, not fuzzy, but almost as if he was drifting away.

He took another look at the moon. Maybe he wasn't being superstitious. This sensation came upon him once every few weeks, around the time when the moon was in its full glory. Every time it had happened, though, he had soon felt a sharp pain in his gums, like his teeth were being pulled, and then nothing. He didn't want the comfort to go away. Kyle wanted to stay in his bed forever, being embraced by the moon on a night that would never end.

A part of him wanted to abandon all reason and howl, to incite a chain of responses from the wolves in the area -- but wolves didn't exist where he lived, just dogs. Not only would his neighbors have something to say about it, but so would his missing teeth.

As he imagined doing so, there was a new pressure on his skull, focusing on all his teeth. Please don't be what I think it is, he hoped, knowing he was lying to himself, please don't pull me away from this...

Instead of disappearing like it had every time before, the pressure lingered. It enveloped his jaws and nose. Kyle closed his eyes and relaxed. "Ahh..." Drool dripped from his mouth. His gums were receiving a nice stretch, the malaise being kneaded out of them.

As if on cue, thinking about his gums made his sockets bleed again, the taste making his stomach rumble. He needed to get something to eat, or drink -- even water, just something to fill his gut with. Kyle licked his front teeth. He must have been getting used to how cramped his mouth was; his tongue had more room to move around.

Kyle's lungs took in fresh air, his nose elevated above the pit that was his mattress, and the tears, snot, and sweat caked into it. The breeze was another one of the moon's gifts. He swallowed.

Something lumpy slid down his throat.

Kyle's heart jumped. He hadn't eaten, so nothing edible could have been loosened from a corner of his mouth, and it wasn't hard like a tooth. The aftertaste was metallic and reminded him of bad breath, almost like... gauze.

He scrambled for his phone and opened the camera. Not being able to use the flash with the inner camera, he turned the phone around, closed his eyes to shield them, and took the picture. Reopening his eyes and turning the phone back toward him, Kyle opened the picture, wondering why the screen was rough under his thumb.

His eyes widened. Both packs were gone, but the face wasn't his own -- or anyone else's. Humans were animals, but Kyle wasn't a beast. People didn't just suddenly change species, especially not during a full moon. They were stories, meant to entertain. Yet, the first people to spread them had to have based the idea on something in their lives...

Grabbing the corner of his blankets, he started to whip them away, dropping them mid-gesture when he whacked his nose. Thankfully, the touch didn't spread to his jaw and turn into pain. He brought a hand up to give his nose a little rub.

It was wet, cold, hard, and fuzzy. Furry. Kyle tried to scrape off whatever the substance was with a fingernail, but ended up pricked himself and shot his hand away. Didn't he clip his claws recently? He held them up in the moonlight. They weren't nails, but actually were claws -- long, curved, and tapered. He followed the fur with his eyes from his wrist and down his arm, stopping at the sleeve of his wolf shirt.

Was he dreaming? One, two, three, four, five, he counted, making sure he didn't have any extra fingers. Kyle turned his hand over and repeated the process, noting the dark splotches that were paw pads. Still five fingers. Maybe the reality check was failing; that happened sometimes. Unsure if squeezing his new nose damage it, Kyle instead shoved his hand against his nostrils to plug them, fur tickling the passages. He coughed from breathing in nothing. The protest he expected from his missing teeth didn't come. Kyle held his hand to the side of his face. No swelling, and no ear either.

Thumping filled his ears, heart yearning to break free from its cage. He shifted slightly --

"Yeowch!" Kyle's body sprung. He rubbed the tailbone he sat on, feeling an extra appendage that was as fluffy as his arms and face.

Scooping up his blankets and wrapping them tightly around himself, Kyle trapped in any heat that escaped his fur and clothing. What was happening to him? And, was it still happening, or was it already done?

Kyle poked around in his mouth with his tongue, unable to find the stitches sewn just hours before or any remaining gauze. There was no trace, no evidence of his surgery. He did go through it, right? He began to shake.

Kyle didn't dare look down; the blankets saw to that. Sure, the hair on his legs bristled all over as he shook, but that could have just been how it normally was. If he was still half-human, he could still prove he was Kyle and not just an impostor or some monster. His parents would accept him, and everything would be okay. People didn't have muzzles or tails, but he could stay at home and live his life online, where nobody would judge him as a freak. Everything would be okay; if he needed to, he could play his identity as an avatar or a character.

One of his hidden feet twitched and hit a snag. Claws had grown there and therefore fur. It would stay that way. He would still be able to prove who he was. Would he be able to do when the time came, though? Would the changes affect his mind too, turning him from his civilized self to a raging beast? Werewolves were always depicted like that. Maybe it was already happening and he wasn't realizing it since the changing mindset would be the new normal.

Werewolves, werewolves, I, I'm a, I'm, werewolves, werewolves are... Kyle's mind was as jittery as his body, racing to drain his energy so that he would soon be too exhausted to process what was happening.

On all of that, he was assuming anyone would give him time to speak instead of killing him on sight. Either that, or he wouldn't be believed; he could have just been wearing a costume. Kyle closed his eyes and curled himself more tightly. His skin had to come off like a costume; underneath, he was still Kyle. But, no, he needed his fur, he needed it, needed it to stay, needed it to go away! He was still around the same size as his human self; if not, he was at least a little bigger --

Knock knock. Could it be Mom? Dad? Part of Kyle hoped so, whoever it was coming to comfort him, but another part wished it was just someone else and would pass on. Kyle couldn't be seen like this. He needed somewhere to go, somewhere to hide -- under his bed, or in the closet -- but his muscles kept shaking. And shaking.

It wasn't his parents; they would have had the house key with them. No, Mom always kept that key off her key ring.

The door slammed open, creating a thunderous crack that could have been the wall breaking. Someone walked in -- or some*thing*; no person ever opened a door like that. Sniffing sounded through the walls, quickly joined with another's. A third, from Kyle, was added as his lungs gave in to the stress. Safety; he needed safety. He pulled his wrappings up above his snout, leaving only his eyes and ears exposed.

"Kyle?" one of them called out. Its voice sounded like Dad's but... artificial, like some demon was trying to emulate human speech but couldn't quite get the 'human' part.

Kyle licked his nose. In the confines of the blankets, the reek of his fear was profound. No matter where he hid, unraveling his shelter would let them know where he was by his body odor alone, a combination of human sweat and unbathed dog.

"Hello?" the other called out, imitating Mom, while their footsteps came closer. Kyle picked up his phone, careful not to make any noise from sliding it across anything, and buried the rest of his head in his blankets. Help, the house is being broken into and I'm trapped, he texted to his parents. Adding anything more would turn his plea into a joke. Grateful for auto-correct, he sent his message, then silenced the phone. Seconds later, he heard a jingle from outside his room, followed by another. Both of their phones had been forgotten.

Kyle was by himself. His only other option for help was emergency services, but they only took calls, not texts. His voice would get him killed before help would arrive.

He hyperventilated. Air burned through his mouth since his nose could no longer supply enough. With the speed of a snail, he inched toward the edge of his bed. Toward a hiding spot. His feet felt huge, like his tongue did while his mouth was numb. He pointed his toes upward before each shuffle so they wouldn't get caught in his mattress.

At the edge, Kyle lowered his feet onto the floor and slid the rest of himself down, whimpering quietly when his tail got pinched in the frame. He smothered his muzzle in blanket after the outburst, but his claws poked through, pricking his face. Though he remained silent that time, the damage was already done.

The hallway light flicked on, having only a few seconds to seep under the door and mingle with the moonlight before being choked by a shadow. A dark gray paw came down and blocked the slit. Then another. The invaders were also werewolves.

It wasn't a coincidence. Werewolves weren't real -- until today -- and right after he turned into one, some were coming for him. Did they want to recruit him into their pack? No, they couldn't be; they forced their way in. They were beasts. Monsters. Animals. But he was one too.

The door creaked open. For a brief moment, he considered fighting for his life, but as the hallway's light revealed him, he realized just how weak and scared he was, along with not having the experience with his form they did.

"Hey, I --" one of the werewolves began. "Kyle!" Kyle burst out of his blanket and leaped for the window. His eyes passed across the sky, locking on the moon. Safety. The screen parted before his claws as if it wasn't even there.

Redness bled into the edges of his vision, invading as it pulsed. Cold wind tickled his extremities. His nose scrunched and breathed in chilly air, chest tightening before he had his fill. Clothes. He was still wearing them. They constricted him, squeezing his lungs. He swiped his hands toward his torso...

...and the ground charged into him, bending his arms and legs at painful angles.

Kyle howled weakly, expelling the shreds of air remaining in his lungs. Breathe, breathe, he needed to breathe, but it was like he could only suck it in through a tiny straw.

"Kyle!"

Thumping. His heart, or footsteps?

A door opening.

More thumping. Coming closer.

Kyle pushed himself up, but his muscles spasmed and he fell back down. Now, his belly rested flat on the earth. More air came in this time, but his lungs were still smothered between the ground and the rest of his weight.

No matter how hard he pushed, how much he compressed his paw pads, he could not get up. Lifting his chest up was not running.

One of the beasts pounced on him, locking him in its arms. Kyle wriggled, tiring himself further. He opened his mouth.

The creature licked his face, making him forget what he was going to do. "Oh, my sweet Kyle!" It tightened its grip. "I'm sorry I was gone so long!"

Kyle stared dumbfounded. Here he was, helpless to being eaten or abducted or whatever by the creature, but all it did was... hug him?

"It's okay," it said. "It's okay. Your dad's here too."

Kyle stopped squirming. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the other werewolf coming closer, but there was tenderness in its eyes -- his eyes -- not savage lust.

"Mom?" he said, turning back to her. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He wanted to kick himself for thinking they were impostors; his voice had the same falseness theirs did. At its core, Kyle's voice was still his voice, just muddled by different anatomy.

She hummed affirmation. "How's your mouth?"

"Uh, it feels fine. Right now. I think."

"Let's go inside," his dad advised. "Don't want to be seen in public."

Kyle's mom let go of him, letting him walk in on his own. Dirty paw prints followed him across the carpet. "Whoops."

"Don't worry about it," his mom said, but he could tell it wasn't not a problem. He stopped to wipe his paws off like he was someone's dog.

They sat in the living room. Nothing looked out-of-place even though it was currently occupied by two-legged wolves. He felt hollow inside when he gazed at the covered windows; he couldn't see the moon.

"So, you've been -- you've been, uh, werewolves the entire time?"

"Uh-huh," replied Mom. "Even before we met each other." She rested her arm behind Dad's neck, creating a mound of fur that Kyle couldn't separate into arm and neck with his eyes alone.

"What about me? How long have I been a werewolf?" He straightened his back. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" His parents had loved him, cared for him, for seventeen years; they had no reason to bear ill will against him... "Did you bite me in my sleep?" Kyle stood up but had nowhere to go. "Why did you never ask me? It'll affect me for the rest of my life!" His voice creaked.

His mom stood up. "Hey, hey, calm down," she said, but a growl grew toward the end.

"And then on the night you made me turn into one, you both disappear! And then I --"

Dad barked, and Kyle was blown back into his seat, his chest weighing more. "Listen. Please." Dad's voice softened. "We didn't bite you or anything. Biting someone as a werewolf is one way to pass it on to someone else, but it's also hereditary. Neither of us asked for this, but we came to embrace the wild side and make it part of us, like any other condition.

"As for not being home... well, we were hoping to be with you during your first night, but my car broke down at work and your mom had to come to pick me up. Then, on the way home, it was getting late, so she needed to take a different way home so we wouldn't be seen. Can't have werewolves roaming around, but everyone we passed by who heard her road rage surely know it was nonhuman!"

Kyle stared at his lap. "Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that." He looked back up at his parents. "I'm still confused though. So if I've been a werewolf my whole life, how come I didn't start transforming until tonight? All I've felt is a pain in the back of my mouth about once a month, so I think whenever I was supposed to change -- yeah, since it was whenever you two were gone -- for uh, I can't remember when it began."

His mom snickered. At least, that was the closest thing her laughter sounded like. He tightened his grip on his seat. It was hard to believe such a noise could come out of one of his parents.

"There's a reason why we scheduled your surgery this day of the month in particular. Lycanthropy takes a while to start showing, but it can get blocked by wisdom teeth. In most people, the changes start with the mouth, and if the teeth are in too poor shape, the transformation fails and just stops. We didn't want to tell you about what runs in our blood until tonight -- either you wouldn't believe us about werewolves being real, or, if we did show you, you would've been too young to understand that you shouldn't babble about it to anyone." She cleared her throat, misting muck onto her arm. "Oh, yeah; also, since your body gets reformed, your mouth gets healed right away too. But you probably know that since you're talking just fine."

"So my mouth won't hurt?"

Mom smiled. Kyle caught a whiff of wet dog smell, so he breathed through his mouth. "Not today, but you'll definitely want whatever painkillers the doctor prescribed tomorrow morning."

Kyle's stomach gurgled while he was digesting the response.

"Hungry? Transforming is hard work!"

"Kinda. But I'm mostly tired. I'm not in the mood for eating." And he needed time to think about all of this.

"Well, make sure to take your antibiotic before bed. No use in getting those holes in your mouth infected!"

He made sure to.

Kyle walked in his room and closed the door. The air nipped at his fur. As far as he could tell, no bugs or anything else annoying had come in through the shredded screen.

It was strange how Mom and Dad didn't care about the damage he caused to his room. He couldn't tell in the moonlight, but his floor likely had claw marks too.

"Good night!" he shouted.

"Good night!" his parents shouted back.

Instead of properly making his bed, Kyle picked up the scattered pieces of his bed and -- making sure not to rip them with his claws -- shook them a few times before tossing them on the mattress.

He didn't tuck himself in right away. Walking on his toes, he sneaked toward and out the window, his tail moving slightly to enhance his balance.

Lying out in the grass was his wolf shirt. Kyle's pace slowed and his heart grew heavy as he grew closer to it. That was his favorite shirt, and now it was likely torn in too many places to repair.

He squatted and straightened it out in his hands.

Everything was fine on the back. He flipped it over. The wolf stood together in one piece, defiant in all its majesty against his attempts to tear it off of him. The only signs of his struggle to take the shirt off were tiny, easily-repairable holes below the wolf. His shirt had survived!

Keeping the shirt close to his chest, Kyle sneaked back inside, closing the window once he was in. He peeled back his covers and wrapped himself in them, now providing him with the peace they failed to give him earlier.

As he fell asleep, he hugged his shirt, knowing he would likely be squeezing it in pain when his human mouth was back in the morning.