Drabble about Remus' transformation on the full moon. Marauder Era. Drabble.

The pain overwhelmed him; inexplicably horrid yells filled the air. Claws erupted vulgarly in the place of that should have been hands, yelps of a canine shrouding those of a young boy. Fur sprouted needle-prickingly on his rigid body, which was bending unwillingly in the ominous light of the round Gibbous moon, its light streaming in from the boarded window of the shrieking shack. Jaws snapped at air, razor teeth of a carnivore in the mouth of a ravenous beast. Piercing, bloodshot, bloodthirsty amber eyes shot about the room looking for its human prey. A howl punctured the solemn night as a white stag, antlers gleaming majestically in the light so beautiful yet painful at the same time; a dog, as dark and grizzly as the Grim, but with grey, mischievous eyes standing on its jet black coat; and a meager rat, twitching nervously as it spotted the auburn wolf before it, hanging away from the three large not-quite animals entered the large room. The Wolf had his Pack, the Wolf was satisfied. The currently miniscule human part of the Wolf admired his friends. Friends, he though. Marauders for life.