Fight!

The Dark Lord is powerful. The waves of energy that **** you as he approaches are proof of that. His strength batters against you like a violent gust that you have to work your hardest to stand against, lest you be blown away by it. It seeps into your skin, burning you like hot lava against your flesh that could melt your flesh away to the bone if you were exposed to it for too long. It is the sort of strength that many creatures would fall away and run from, screaming and crying in terror at the power that was being brought to bear against them.

There is that instinct within you, telling you to run as those others would, but there is something stronger telling you to stand and fight. There is the pride of a predator, the strength of a hunter and the power that burns within you that is so similar to that which is being brought to bear against you. All of that comes together within you and keeps you from giving in to fear, stops you from taking another step back as you had already taken one without even realizing it. No, fear would not rule you and, if you would not flee, that left only one other option, did it not?

So it was, with a savage growl, you leaped into motion. You launched yourself forward and, as you did, you let your human form fall away to give way to the monstrous werewolf form you had created for yourself. Powerful muscle expanded out on a body that was sprouting fur with lightning quickness. Your face stretched outward to form a lupine muzzle full of razor-sharp fangs and dagger-like claws grew from the tips of long, strong fingers. All these changes occurred in the space of a second, magical energy making the transformation nearly instantaneous so that you were already fully changed by the time you were launching yourself at the Dark Lord with arm slashing forward through the air with preternatural quickness to aim wickedly sharp claws at his head.

It was a brutal and lightning-fast attack that you were sure would tear your foe's head off...if you had ever hit him, that is. For, in an instant, the Dark One was gone from where he had been standing in front of you. Before you could even blink, he had moved, standing in front of you one moment and then standing beside you in the next. You hadn't even seen him move, hadn't had time to even react or try to adjust your aim as your hand cut through thin air instead of impacting with a body. And then, before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a powerful hand close on the nape of your neck and lift your towering, powerful form up into the air as though you were nothing more than a pup.

"Such spirit! Such courage!", you hear the Dark Lord state with something like amusement in his deep and resonating voice, "I am impressed, my minion. Very impressed."

His words and tone of approval last for a bare moment longer before you feel his hand tighten on the back of your neck to a painful degree. "But a minion should know her place...", he states in a cold yet fierce tone that chills your blood in your veins.

With as much effort as one would put into lifting a piece of paper, the Dark Lord lifts you up high over his head and then slams you down into the ground, your back slamming into the cold stone of the floor with a great thud that cracks the stone beneath you and knocks the air from your lungs. Were you a lesser being or in one of your other forms, that impact would have probably rendered you ****, but, in this monstrous hybrid wolf form, your body was more durable and your recuperative ability was greatly increased. Still, you had to take a moment to catch your breath and recover from the pain that had lanced through your body at the impact.

The Dark Lord stands over you as you recover yourself, looking down at you with those burning red eyes, his gaze intense upon your own. "Now, my minion, have you learned your place? Do you know who your master is now?", he asks you as you lay there recovering, waiting for you to respond when you catch your breath.