Mick was soon out of breath, but Nat ran on without him. A few exhibitors tried to stop Nat and show him the damage his dog had done, but Nat had one thing on his mind. He couldn’t bear to think of the consequences of Woody biting Teddy Davis. Nat searched around the back of trucks and trade stands, but he found nothing.

It was only when he was trudging back, dodging the people whose stands had been wrecked, that he suddenly sensed Woody was near. Following his instinct, he ran through a pathway made out of parked cars, but what he saw there made him cry out in panic.

Teddy Davis was lying on his back. Standing over him, pinning him to the dusty grass, was Woody, legs splayed out, hackles stiff. His eyes were glowing and drops of his hot saliva dotted Teddy’s T-shirt.

“Get it off me,” pleaded Teddy, hot tears running down his face. “Get it away from me.”

Nat rushed over and dragged Woody away by the collar. Teddy got up slowly and awkwardly. Nat, still suffering from shock, went to help him.

“Get lost!” shouted Teddy. “Tell anyone about this, and you’ll be sorry you were born.”

Nat stood silently, not knowing what to do.

“That dog’s a lunatic,” said Teddy, trying to stifle another sob. “I’m gonna tell my dad about him, and the police will make you have him put down.”

Nat and Woody watched him as he hobbled back toward the crowds.

“Nice one, Woody,” said Nat wearily. “I thought you said that Wolven were a peace-loving ra …?”

The words died on his lips and he shook his head in disbelief.

“Oh, no, not now! Please no!” He felt as though all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. From within the fur at both sides of Woody’s head poked two unmistakably human ears.

CHAPTER 9
CRESCENT

Woody’s back arched like a cat’s and a wild keening noise came from his open mouth. His front and back legs shot out from underneath him, forcing him to lie flat in the dust, his head whipping from side to side. To Nat, it looked as though he was being pulled apart by something or someone unseen. The thick white fur on his face became thinner, then disappeared completely, as if blown away by a sudden wind.

Nat was horrified — he felt powerless to help. Woody’s muzzle shrank, his neck lengthened, and soon the top half of him was boy-shaped. Then nothing. The rest of him, the lower half, stayed resolutely Wolven. He writhed helplessly in the dust, his wolf legs unable to support him.

Nat had no option but to drag Woody along, trying to find a safe place to hide him. If someone comes along … Nat shoved the thought out of his head.