The Beast Behind the Bars

4E 201 | Late Hearthfire | Thirty-Two Days Since Arrival

Sinding looked less like a monster than a man who had spent too long believing he deserved the word.

He sat chained to the wall of Falkreath's jail, thin shoulders slouched, hair hanging across bruised eyes. When Tsukihana approached the bars, he gave a bitter laugh.

"Come to gawk? Here I am. Take a good look and begone."

Tsukihana crossed her arms. "I have seen more impressive monsters."

Sinding looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Draugr. Bandits. Masked killers. You look tired."

A laugh escaped him before shame killed it.

Tsukihana asked about the dead girl.

His face collapsed inward.

"I did not know her," he said. "I remember seeing her only after the beast released me."

"What beast?"

"Me."

He spoke of Hircine, the Daedric Prince of the Hunt, and a ring that had promised control but delivered only unpredictable transformation. The curse turned rage, fear, and moonlight into hunger. He remembered fragments: running, blood, a child's scream.

"I would give anything to undo it."

A growl moved through his chest.

Sinding's eyes widened. "Leave."

His spine arched.

Bones cracked in rapid succession. Chains cut into swelling wrists. Fur burst through skin. His jaw lengthened around a scream until the sound became a howl.

The transformed werewolf snapped the iron restraints, climbed the wall with hooked claws, and tore through the roof.

Tsukihana followed into chaos.

People fled through the streets. Guards shouted without forming a line. Sinding landed atop a cart and raised one claw over a fallen civilian.

Tsukihana sprinted, stepped onto another wagon, and launched her full weight into his ribs.

They struck the ground together.

She rose with her sword ready.

The werewolf turned.

For one heartbeat, recognition lived inside the yellow eyes.

Sinding lowered the claw.

Then he ran for the forest.

Tsukihana pursued.