The rushing pitter-patter of boots on wood screamed echoes throughout the halls of Duskshire's Inn, accompanied by rattling chains and the harsh snarling of what sounded like a wolf. The door bursts open, and three men donning gray clothing and top hats walking in, grunting and groaning with forceful exerts of physical strength. In their hands would be a worgen woman, whose purple and golden robes were tattered to shreds, claw marks and brush stains evident throughout her clothing.
The worgen's chains clanged, as she was forced onto the bed. The three men focus on holding her down, a gray-headed, tall, mountain of a man speaking with a light Gilnean tone.
"Where is Jackson!? He was to deliver that elixir hours ago!" The burly man stated, groaning.
"Are you sure she's still even savable?" Another of the men asked.
"Don't you see those robes!? She was part of the Kirin-Tor expedition just yesterday. Of course she's still savable! We cannot give this up!"
The men continued their bastion, holding the worgeness down with all their might, but her persistent thrashing and jerking was proving cumbersome to their tenacity. Not before long, a lanky, obviously young, athletic man rushed up the stairs, with a bag of bottles to his side.
"Jackson! It took you long enough! Come, come, get that potion in this worgen already! I don't know how much longer we can hold!" The eldest man commanded.
"Right away sir!" Jackson obeyed, withdrawing a potion of dark green, earthy liquid. One of the three quickly grabbed hold of the worgen's jaws and hinged them open, risking his fingers in the snapping trap. A simple pop of the cork, and the bottle's neck was shoved straight into the worgen's maw, forcing her to down every drop of the elixir.
No more than three minutes passed, before the worgen woman was instantaniously calmed. However, she remained unresponsive. Only breathing- nothing more.
"Maybe we were too late, boys..." The eldest Gilnean said, bowing his head and removing his hat. The others followed suit, before walking down the steps. "Leave'er... if she comes to, we'll find out soon enough."
Hours later, a stir... a toss... a turn... the worgen was slowing awakening, but something else inside of her was coming to as well. As she helplessly wallowed on the bed, her open eyes sifted through a plethora of rainbow colours. Blue, green, violet, red, orange, yellow- colours even beyond the average spectrum- magenta, gray, pink, amber. Not only that; with each new colour came new experiences. Harsh memories wrought and twisted. Happy days, bright and sunny out with relaxing breezes...
Suddenly the worgen snapped, and she thrashed upward, in a seated postion. She huffed, looking around the inn as if she had just awoken from a nightmare.
"Wh... where am I?" She asks, replied with only by silence. "Wh-What is this place!?"
"You? Where are YOU!?" Said a voice.
Catherine's own voice.
"What's it matter where YOU are? I'm in hell!" She shouted to herself.
"What!? Who are you? Where are you? Wh-What are you doing to me? Why am I here?" Catherine replied.
"What do you mean...?" Catherine stood up, looking about the room, her eyes quickly darting to the nearest mirror within its walls.
"Wh... What am I?" She asks, taken aback. The new canine body she inhabited... her tattered robes... her heterochromatic eyes- one blue, one orange.
"What are we?"
"You Catherine." She mutters to herself. "I'm you."