Rolling onto his back, Alex laid there for a while to let himself recover, his eye closed and his paws over his chest like he was trying to sleep. It didn’t take long for him to realize his tongue would fall back into his mouth in that position. Eventually, he heard Bailey’s footfalls nearby and tilted his head to see him leaving his room. As much as he wanted to tell him not to be afraid, he still felt sore and exhausted. And doubted that he could even speak with a canine muzzle.
It was then Alex realized even though he had transformed, everything he was doing was under his own power. He hadn’t gone crazy or lost control over himself like he feared he would, and breathed a massive sigh of relief in response. Now feeling more upbeat knowing this, he started to pick himself back up, stopping when he saw what had happened to his hands.
They had shifted into the massive hand-like paws he had seen on the werewolf that attacked him that night. His fingers were a bit shorter to make up for the length of the claws, but his thumb seemed to still be opposable. Moving it a bit, it did feel that way, making him attempt a smile through his muzzle before trying to clear his eyes. Getting his body hoisted to his arms, he tried to find some footing for his legs and soon stood up. He couldn’t see anything behind his muzzle, but he noticed the most dramatic changes right away.
He had gained about a foot in height from the shifting of his legs and feet and his limbs felt far stronger. Every inch of him was covered in a pelt of fur, which he could smell his own sweat through. Even more so than everything else in the room, if the shift had altered his sense of smell. The air conditioning from the vent above him made some of the finer strands on his pelt move, helping relieve some of his body heat that felt trapped underneath it.
The lower jaw of the muzzle he had grown felt far stronger than his human jaw, even though it was on a longer hinge, with his new teeth and fangs closing neatly around each other. Standing as he was and trying to walk however felt strange, as if he was walking on every toe except his big ones. Those he could barely feel anymore.
Looking over to the clock in his room, it was 5:56. He had no idea how long the shift had taken but seeing the setting sun still shining through his blinds set off a small degree of panic in his head. He had shut all the doors and all the windows were closed, so chances were good nobody had heard him screaming. However, the question of why had he shifted now instead of tomorrow on the full moon surfaced again. How had he set it off? Worse, what if him being in control was only temporary?