He nosed through the restroom door, was all but blown over from the odor of decay and filth, and did everything in his power to make the change from wolf to human in record time—not something he would have preferred to do, had the situation been more comfortable. Going too fast left him feeling nauseous, shaky, and not-quite-put-together. “S’all right,” Lyle mumbled. “One more thing to get used to.” And that he could do. Perfecting his use of that side of him was, in fact, all he cared to do.
The sink was filthy with grime and rust; the mirror above it was cracked and spotted. Though Lyle’s hands were slippery with blood from the change, he was grateful for the slimy barrier between him and the lime-encrusted, rat-s**t-spotted surfaces.
He tried not to make comparisons between where he l
