Late at night, in the darkness, the feral passion wells up inside, and not to be contained, it must find an exis. An inhuman growl comes from within, accompanied by the swelling of flesh, as something more primal comes to the surface. Claws erupt from fingertips, skin tearing and giving way to tufts of fur. There's a loud primordal roar as the face of a beast not seen in millenia rips from behind a human mask. But the roar is not of pain, it's of relief, the beast no longer contained, no longer trapped inside.

Graith © me
Artwork © Toulouse (http://www.furaffinity.net/user/toulouse)

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