“Almost time for your gift,” Jarek told the toddler. The boy sniffled.
“I dunno about this one,” said an old man. People were gathering. “Not enough... spunk.”
“He'll perk up, Father,” said a girl. “He was picked specially.”
The old man shrugged and glanced at the sky. “Almost time. Be gentle, Jarek.”
The moon rose.
Jarek shuddered with the transformation, swished his tail and trotted over to the boy.
He was gentle, nipping just hard enough to draw blood. The boy screamed anyway. The scream turned into a wavering howl.
The others barked with laughter, and crowded forward to greet the new member of their pack.