Things had not been well for Trent. He'd been feeling nauseous and pained for days now. Ever since that strange encounter before he'd come here. Meeting Sebastian had spun Trent's world around, and he'd been injected with all this new information. Truth was, the thought of becoming a vicious flesh-eating werewolf wasn't exactly something Trent aspired. The thought horrified him, especially when he considered the pain that no doubt came paired with the shift. The sickening cracks of Sebastian's bones were still fresh on his mind.

What was worse, Trent hadn't yet found a pack. He'd expected it to be a piece of cake, but of course that had been another one of his dumb assumptions. His mother always did tell him he had to stop living in a fantasy world. Now he was going to pay for it, no doubt.

Pain shot through Trent's back as he trotted through the forest and he sank to the ground near a tall tree, curled himself up at its base. I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die... But why did it feel like he was dying so damned much?

Fear ruled over the coyote-wolf hybrid, and he could hear bones crack. The sound was disgusting, especially because he knew these were his bones, and Trent's bony chest heaved, what little contents his stomach contained unhappy with their host's changes. Unable to contain himself and save what nutrients they might've provided him, Trent threw up, still curled up beneath the tree.

Laying in a puddle of his own stomach contents with his head while his body felt like it was tearing at the seams, Trent wasn't sure he could've felt any less dignified. Drool and vomit dribbled off his chin as his body convulsed and he kept himself clenched in a ball while he screamed for his life. He probably would've screamed a plea not to die, but since he could feel nothing but mind-numbing fear and what felt like pain, it came out as nothing more than a loud, nonsensical screaming.

The approach of another barely went noticed at first; Trent was so absorbed into his own pain and his own mind, his sense of scent consumed and clouded by the heavy smell of his own vomit, that he didn't even register at first. When he did notice the other, it was because he opened his eyes and saw someone stare at him. Trent didn't register the emptiness in the others' expression, didn't register a lot more than the fact that there was someone staring at him to begin with. He had to have been there for minutes, but it might as well have been seconds — or hours, for that matter.

With pleading, helpless eyes the shifting luperci glanced up at the other, vaguely aware of the pathetic impression he had to make, vaguely aware of the handsome features the observer held. R-run! Trent squeaked with a high-pitched voice, completely unaware that there wouldn't be a crazy full-moon soul-take-over involved with his shift. He was afraid and convinced that he would lose control of his mind and soul and that he'd stand up to try and rip the next best passer-by to pieces. Probably should've asked Sebastian for a bit more information when he'd had the chance, had he not been in such thick denial at the time. I — I'm g-gonna change, and I don't want to hurt you... In hindsight, when he found out he wouldn't change into a slobbering crazy soul-eating werewolf, Trent would probably feel like an idiot, but for now this belief only fueled his fear of changing and his belief that he was being punished for what he was.

Gathering his strength, Trent managed to pull the front of his body off the ground. He cried in a pain that was mostly in his mind rather than a reality as his body changed further, long cinnamon-dusted mane falling down his back and his arms and paws slowly extending. It was a slow and painful process for Trent, and as the pain and fear gripped his mind the stranger was momentarily forgotten.

Instead of leaving, like Trent had suggested him to, the male came closer. He normally would've likely have recoiled away from the touch, but in his darkest moment, his mind blogged with fear and pain, Trent couldn't help himself but to savour the touch to his shoulder. This other he did not know, a luperci like he was becoming, was his only certainty in the harsh world right now. Trent felt like nothing was certain as he tore at the seams, bones and muscles expanding. Nothing was certain, but the touch of the other was definitely there, definitely real. Trent needed something real at that moment, and so he did not shy away from it like he might've normally, even though he still feared hurting the other once he'd shifted.

The voice was soothing, another real and solid thing in Trent's revolting world, and every word that was spoken, however neglient of his feelings it was, Trent clung to as if it was his final hope. Eyes rolled up to look at the male as he spoke of the lack of personality change. The meaning of the words slowly drifted into the cracks of Trent's mind, and he could only hope it to be true.

He tried to take a deep breath, and again, and continued to look up at the stranger's face. Trent hoped that the hand on his shoulder wouldn't go away, that the face he was looking up at wouldn't vanish in thin air as a mirage. Right now, this was all he needed. T-talk... Please. The words came out shaky and hoarse, and with that pleading, helpless look still in his eyes Trent looked up at the stranger. He needed someone to pull him through this and keep him here, on this world, solid.

Paws gripped at his own chest as he continued to change and his legs and arms extended. The paws slowly extended and grew into fingers clenching at the fur on his chest and long, orange-brown mane extended down his back as his change proceeded and he as almost in optime form, still laying on the ground like a helpless child.

Although his voice was rough, Trent sensed that there was no ill will in the other; he had proved that much by staying. Trent barely registered his own breathing, but was made aware of it by the dark male and tried to breathe deep and slow instead of the huffy, speedy-paced breaths he had been taking. The touch on his arm made him shiver, a feeling both pleasant and guilty, but in the state that he was in, Trent wasn't about to object. This felt like his last hope, like the thing he needed to get better again, even though he knew it was opposite.

He was glad when the male started to talk, and stared up at the black and grey male as he watched him struggle finding something to talk about. His voice was rough around the edges, but all the more alluring through it, soothing even if his tones were far from soft.

The words barely registered, but perhaps it was because Trent had not even seen the horse standing around so he had no idea who or what the dark-furred stranger was talking about. He only heard strands of stories, fragments of words, but that didn't matter; it was the rough voice that pulled him through, not the words it created.

Finally the pain stopped. Long strands of cinnamon mane lay mostly on the ground below his face, some in his face, some in his neck. Trent lifted a quivering hand to pull them back, and felt sick as he pulled the weird-looking paw through the mane and pulled them back. "Thank you." The words didn't exactly sound heart-felt, even though they were genuine. Trent still shook a little as he looked up at the dark male, suddenly feeling rather strange and out of place so close to someone else. "I uh... 'm Trent." The words came out awkwardly, an introduction that felt way overdue, and realising that he'd been staring at the dark-furred stranger that had helped him so generously, Trent looked to the ground submissively, averting his gaze.

Trent didn't feel that the other had been useless at all, for simply being there and talking to him had helped him out greatly, but he didn't actually tell him that. Seemed useless, and besides, it might give the other the wrong idea. When his touch was pulled away, Trent felt longing and relief at the same time. But at least the horrible pain was gone.

For someone who looked quite dark and broody at first glance, Trent was surprised how talkactive this Alaki was. As the name was shared, the coywolf locked it inside, desperate to remember it for later. A flimsy smile was on his face, and Trent searched for words he could not find. The only words that came to his mind were those that he definitely needed to keep to himself.

Alaki's sudden harsh words broke Trent's inner struggle for something to say, and they startled him. Unfortunately, the only response he wanted to give to the firm, albeit not unfriendly words was to look away or shrink to a ball. He swallowed, trying to fight the conflicting feelings inside, and awkwardly sat himself up. He looked up at Alaki, something that was easier now that the other was higher, taller than him anyway, hoping that he was able to demonstrate at least a little bit of courage. Trent wasn't entirely sure why he was so desperate to try and gain the dark fellow's approval, but he was.

The open hand was confusing to Trent, who wasn't yet used to this form or the possibilities it opened. His paws - or anyone else's - had never been good for grabbing anything, and so he did not understand what Alaki meant. He felt nervous, for it made his intentions to get Alaki to approve of him harder not knowing what to do with his gesture, but the other spoke of standing. Although standing on two feet rather than four seemed incredulous, after seeing at least two others effortlessly do so so far, Trent figured that he ought to be able to, as well.

"Okay, I'll try," he said awkwardly, realising that he hadn't spoken in any verbal way through all of Alaki's words, only listening, responding physically, adjusting, trying to do as he was told. He looked up at Alaki again, remembering his words about submission and dominance and trying to be bolder, and shakily tried pushing himself to his feet using his forearms (since he still hadn't a clue that Alaki's gesture with the hand was meant to help getting him to his feet, he didn't take the offered hand). Trent managed to stand up, but his head felt light and he leaned back against the tree he'd been next to while he tried to find his balance on two legs rather than four.

Trent had no idea how lucky he was to have Alaki help him out today, but he was grateful for it nevertheless. There was absolutely no reason why a random stranger wouldn't just tear him apart and have him for lunch rather than help him, after all, so Trent counted his blessings. His head was light as he leaned against the tree behind him for balance.

As he grew more used to his new form, Trent more and more began to realise that he'd thrown up and rolled around in his own vomit - and was probably standing in some, too - and in the presence of Alaki he felt ashamed and out of place looking like he probably did. Trent suddenly felt like he needed to flee, get out of here. "I hope so," he struggled out as Alaki said that all it took was getting used to. Hopefully it would get easier in due time.

When Alaki asked him if he had a place to stay, Trent quickly nodded. "Yes." He actually hadn't really thought through that one, for he realised seconds later that Alaki had offered to escort him somewhere. "I mean, no, ah... I'll be fine on my own getting there. But I appreciate your kindness, uhm..." This was probably the part where a normal person would say 'thank you', but Trent somehow didn't, leaving Alaki to guess that he was grateful from the rest of his words instead. He looked at Alaki and forced a smile to his face, resisting the strong urge to run off and go wash his face, waiting for Alaki to either go away and accept that he had elsewhere to be, or figure out that Trent didn't really have elsewhere to go and stick around, or... whatever.

Trent glanced briefly at the horse the other stood by, curious for the male's connection to the animal; he only knew them as food, not as anything else, but this one seemed almost like a companion. He didn't ask though, was just grateful that Alaki didn't question his intent and accepted that he was going elsewhere. The truth was, of course, that Trent didn't have anywhere else to go, but he wouldn't be telling Alaki that any time soon. Anathema. He locked the pack's name in his mind and nodded. Maybe I'll visit sometime, he half-offered, non-committally, and Trent watched as Alaki grabbed the reins of the mare and said his farewells.

Trent mouthed a 'bye', but he didn't actually speak any words out loud, just watched as Alaki took off. For a moment he stood there, feeling completely out of control and sick from smelling his own vomit on his fur, face, breath and the ground, and then he stumbled forward, trying desperately to gain control of the two legs he now stood on; continuing the struggle of becoming luperci alone.