I kept my eyes closed, painting a picture in my mind’s eye of my wolf form, as instructed by Mrs. Krane.
Except, I was having a hard time. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't picture my own wolf, except for the ones I’d already seen.
Elijah’s. Or the ghostly wolves I’ve seen roaming the hallways.
Apparently, you’re supposed to conjure your wolf from thought. I had not the faintest clue how I was going to pull this off. I wasn’t precisely the imaginative or creative type, and in this lesson, I was starting to think this was an essential quality to have if you ever wanted to make it as a werewolf.
Elijah, however, had transformed over ten times already within the past hour while he spent the remaining time focused on me, trying to encourage me.
“You know, to turn, you actually ne
