Rough Draft.

That night, the rain was coming down in torrents. My gray fur looked black and it clung to my skin, making the cold seep into my heart. We stood in front of the cliff, looking down over the side into absolute darkness. I had never been outside my were pack's territory. I had no idea what was down there. The jungle around us was ignited with chirping crickets and howling monkeys. The werewolf didn't seem to notice anything. He didn't look afraid. I hoped I didn't either. He was staring right into my eyes, and without him saying it, I knew what he wanted me to do.

After all, the founding idea of the soldiers was loyalty. How far would you go for your Alpha? Would you die for him? I would.

This was it. This was the moment that was going to decide my future. If I didn't get into the Alphays -a group of elite soldiers who protected the werewolves from danger- then I had no purpose. The wolf in front of me was old. His muzzle was turning gray, and his jet black fur was losing its gloss. He had been a soldier before, and now he was finding a replacement for his position. In his eyes, I saw purpose. I wanted purpose too. I wanted to be a part of something bigger than me.

The edge of the cliff loomed in front of me.

"The drop is over a hundred feet," said the wolf, "you must turn into a human while doing it. You may not survive."

"And if I do survive?"

"Then you take your place as a soldier for our Alpha."

I nodded. The drop was so far I could not see the bottom. All I could hear was the sound of rushing water. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and allowed my body to transform. I felt my fur melt away, replaced by smooth, helpless skin. My muzzle flattened into a broad oval. The bones in my back cracked and shifted until I was standing upright.

I hated turning into a human. I always felt so vulnerable. In our society, we mostly remained as wolves. Human form was only used for building and official affairs.

I did not waste another moment in thought. Taking a running start, I threw myself off the edge of the cliff and into the darkness below.

At first I felt nothing but the rush of the fall. On one side of me was the rock wall I had leapt from. There were numerous plants sprouting from the Craig’s and they whipped against me painfully. A rock scratched against my hip. All at once I saw the bottom of my fall; a thin line of water with rocks dotting the stream. I was supposed to somehow land in there unscathed.

With a loud splash, I fell into the water. I wasn’t used to swimming. It wasn’t something wolves did for fun. My knee smashed against a rock but I hardly noticed. The only thing I could notice was the water filling my lungs. Pawing frantically, I forced myself to the surface of the water. At the base of the waterfall the water was relatively calm.

I sucked in deep gulps of air. One stroke after another. My feet finally touched the mud of the rivers bottom. I gripped into the shoreline, and pulled my aching body out.

I was half-drowned, covered in scratches, and my knee was gashed so badly I didn’t recognize it. I lay on the bank with my eyes to the clouded sky. The wolves head loomed into view. Water from his pelt dripped onto me.

“Welcome,” he told me.