"WHAT IS IT LIKE?" HE WHISPERED
"IT'S LIKE DROWNING. EXCEPT YOU CAN SEE EVERYONE AROUND YOU BREATHING." I REPLIED

The nightmares had come again. Not that it should come as any great surprise. Regan had been shocked, to say the least, they they had abated as long as they had. This time had been particularly brutal -- silvery webs of intangible tendrils. Regan never remembered what manner of creature or memory hunted, harmed or haunted her. There were too many...her weakness too profound. Her violet gaze swept her naked frame. She was covered in scratches, bite marks and gouges. The scent of blood heady and heavy on the sweat soaked air. The stench of fear permeated the room and shamed her. She needed to get out of there and quickly. She bent and grabbed the first article of clothing her fingers touched. An old hooded sweatshirt that belonged to some guy she'd seen year before. She'd envied him and his new sweater with the tiger crawling up the back. So she'd done what she'd had to. She'd stolen it. Now she slipped it over her lithe frame and barefoot she slipped into the waiting darkness.

The night swallowed her -- embraced and concealed her. She slips silently from one shadow to the next, doing her best to avoid the light. Regan does not feel like being watched. Not today. Not with the scent of blood still lingering on her skin and the sense of her shame lingering at the forefront of her mind. The need to run, the feeling of being chased still, sees Regan slip into a ground eating jog. With each long stretch of her legs, the hooded sweatshirt brushes the middle of her thigh, revealing bloodied scrapes and gouges. She pressed herself for more speed and got it. She was barely a blur by the time she made it to the beach. Her chest heaving up and down, the soles of her feet scraped and bleeding lightly. Then again, she had just run a solid 15 miles to get here. Bending, her hands press into her knees and she takes a moment to settle her breathing and calm her center. Her eyes closing, as slowly she relaxed and allowed the calm rise and fall of the ocean waves to lull her. A moment passes and then another. Her eyes flicker open and she lowers herself into the sand, her violet gaze locked on the stars.

Just before dawn, Regan slips out of her sweater and into the cool dampness of the ocean. She glides beneath its surface and shudders when the sting of the salt permeates her sores. The pain pulls her further into herself -- awakening the soul that had been closed off in the terrors of the night. Beneath the ocean's surface, she began to chance. Her body shimmering and cracking as bones realigned themselves. A tiger crested the waves just as dawn touched the water. The onyx feline waded to shore and shook the lingering sea from her fur. Her violet gaze sweeping the beach for intruders -- not caring that she was one. She'd been offered a spot in the pack here, at least she thought she had. Regan figured that gave her visitation rights...and if it hadn't? Well, she never really did care and breaking rules was a fact of life. For a few long minutes the tiger simply stood there with the ocean waves breaking against the shore behind her. With a relieved sigh, she finally loped up the beach dunes and crested a small hill, headed for home. What she saw there, halted her in her tracks.

Standing there, just off to the side, is a Were of some sort. The scent of prey wafting inside her mind. Hmm. From what she had gathered from Raven, this pack contained only felines...aside from Raven should she join them. Which meant...this Were was not Pack. He was a stranger, for even from this distance the scent of testosterone lingered around him. Curious, as cats are wont to be, she stalks closer. The tiger moved with a seamless, fluid grace. Each step flowing naturally into the next. Never making even the faintest hint of a sound. The tigress's ears twitched, her whiskers drawn forward, listening to the steady rhythm of the male's heart and breathing. She'd know the instant, no, even before the male did, that he'd sensed her presence. The distance between them quickly vanished, until there were only a few feet separating her from him.

Regan lifted her violet gaze and took in every inch of him. From the confident swagger one must need to so casually lean with one foot propped up, to the lean muscles his clothes did nothing to hide. His hair is the palest shade of blonde she has ever seen... She stands there silently, her tail flicking back and forth just out of his periphery. Regan is torn. On the one hand, she kind of just wants to stand there and see how long it would take before he noticed. Before the prey inside of him sensed the predator in her. The other, her more mischievous side, wanted to scare him. Wanted to show this cocky, confident male, that he wasn't nearly as perceptive as he'd assumed. You can guess which side won. Regan never had liked waiting. Instant gratification was so much better.

She took a few silent steps closer, her lips peeling back in a silent snarl. Long fangs glistening in the golden light of dawn. She was massive -- even for a tiger. Solid black, piercing violet eyes, 11 feet long, a good 900 pounds of solid muscle and about 150 inches to her shoulder. Another step closer, then another, until finally the board she had been aiming for creaked beneath her weight. Boo!

WERE-TIGER -- FEMALE -- CHI MANIPULATION -- MUTE -- PLAYED BY MEGS.