[Shin's POV]
Ah. What a profound and entirely unnecessary pain in the ass.
The slanting afternoon light was a particular nuisance, casting sharp, distracting glares that made precise observation more difficult. Before me stood a werewolf with a mangy, rust-red coat—a disgrace to the noble Crimsonheart name—and a nasty, poorly healed scar bisecting its muzzle. Its lips were pulled back in a continuous, rumbling snarl, thick saliva dripping onto the bed of brown pine needles below. It was clearly waiting for me to transform, to engage in the tiresome posturing that typically preceded a fight.
