<2>

	This gave Starla pause as she brushed a few stray hairs from her eye.  "You're... serious?"

	"Well I'm not getting anywhere with secondhand information.  I want to hear it in your own words, and I trust you to tell the truth about it."

	Starla puffed out her chest with a deep inhale and sharp exhale shortly after.  A pink flush flooded her cheeks beneath her snowy white fur.  "So... ever since I turned fourteen I've had some... trouble with self-control," she admitted softly.  "At first I just started sneaking out at night to, you know, run around and stuff.  I wanted to be free, but it's not like I didn't wanna learn either, yeah?  The first time I got caught, she put a lock on my door at night... so I hopped out the window instead.  That didn't last long, either."

	The elder male laced his fingers together and listened intently to every word.  "Go on."

	Starla seemed to tense up a bit the more she spoke.  "Being trapped in my room at night was horrid.  I started having a constant gnawing feeling at the back of my mind to be free, to run... among other things.  I... I started skipping training lessons to run in the woods instead, but..."

	"... That's when she caught you.  Naked." Carson finished for her.

	The female worgen's cheeks looked as if they could've caught fire.  "... yes."

	"The first time," he added.

	Starla had to look down at the floor, her head nodding in confirmation.  "By sixteen, running wasn't enough.  Clothes made me itch horribly, and then some smells started... I dunno, commanding me?  They were [i]overwhelming[/i], and I found myself horribly drawn to boys my age.  Then around eighteen, there was this one, Riordan, who said he understood.  So a few weeks ago we agreed to meet up one night, and... and...."

	Carson slowly held up one clawed hand.  "You don't need to say it out loud.  I get the picture."

	Starla visibly relaxed herself, as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders.  Still, her furred ears drooped as she dared to look into her grandfather's eye again.  "So...?"

	Carson sniffed sharply as he leaned back into the sofa.  "So, your mother has done a piss poor job of raising you," he stated bluntly.  "The worgen's curse is both physical and instinctual.  To deny either aspect of it is asking for trouble."

	Starla raised a curious brow at this.  "Was my mom like that when she was little?"

	It was Carson's turn to hesitate, a slightly-pained expression finally altering the look on his face for a brief moment.  "She experienced the same urges we all have since coming of age, however I made sure that both her and her sister embraced them in as healthy a manner as possible.  The urge to simply run and be free is best experienced beneath Elune, and with them, the urges to mate didn't occur until they were proper adults.  Your resistance amplified them before your time, hence the issues."

	"So... why does mom want me to resist them?" Starla prodded.

	Carson gave a half-hearted shrug.  "I'm not psychic.  She hasn't done you any favors by doing so though."

	The keen rogue narrowed her eyes at the obviously-evaded question.  "Fine, don't tell me after I told you so much."

	"We are not equals," Carson returned without skipping a beat.  "For the time being, if you want to regain control over yourself -which I can tell by the tone of your voice that you do as much as your mother does- we play by my rules, and you act like a polite guest in my home."

	Starla couldn't deny the truth in his words, though she did her best not to show any outward submission.  "Fine.  Where do we start then?"

	The seasoned worgen stood slowly from the sofa and headed back for the door.  "We take a walk."

	The rogue stood as well, albeit with less certainty.  "But I don't feel the urge right now.  Why would I-"

	Carson swung the door open and stopped to wait for her.  "These woods are perpetually dark, so even in the daylight you can run in darkness.  Running was your first urge, so we'll start there.  You may not feel it's invasive clawing this second, but that doesn't mean it isn't there."

	Slow footsteps brought Starla to the doorway, but the rogue couldn't bring herself to step through it.  "I... I don't think I...."

	The elder worgen sighed, and without warning his large hand planted itself on Starla's back.  "Run, dammit!" he barked and gave the young woman a fierce shove.

	Starla cried out in shock as she was shoved forward, but to her surprise she caught herself with her front claws and bolted forward on all fours several feet on sheer instinct.  Her snow-furred head tilted back to look toward Carson, but the thought to turn back was fleeting.  The instinct to move had flared up with that small span of feral travel, and in that moment her inhibitions had been shoved to the far reaches of her mind.  The worgeness threw her head back and let out an ear-piercing howl, and suddenly she was off, darting into the woods just as a feral wolf would.

	All Carson could do was chuckle as he watched her go.  "Just like her mother," he rumbled to himself as he closed the door behind him, dropped to the ground, and took straight off after her like a silver streak in the night.

	Starla's conscious thought was almost like a passenger in her feral mind as she charged through the woods.  Her curvaceous form easily ducked and weaved betweeen massive trees and leapt over stray roots and fallen trunks without fail.  Clouds of leaves and dust were left in her wake, her body seemingly overjoyed with just being able to [i]run[/i] for once.  Sheer joy flooded her mind and body alike, almost as if realizing who she truly was for the very first time.  Each step sent shocks of euphoric delight to her curse-ridden mind... that is, until she suddenly became keenly aware of the leathers digging into her thighs, groin, arms, neck, and... well, everywhere.  Despite her physique, her mother had provided her with clothing meant for humans more than worgen capable of transformation.  They were tight enough just sitting still, and her feral mind instantly decided it would put up with them no longer.  Starla skidded to a halt and let out a second howl before raking at her own leathers viciously with her clawed hands.  Thread and leather shredded instantly before her claws, and a moment later the well-fed rogue was left standing alone in the forest in naught but her fur and skin.

	Carson slowed his pace as he caught his granddaughter not-too-distant howl.  A pleased, toothy grin crossed his face as he adjusted his course just a touch to head toward the sound and took off once more.  Again he slowed as he discovered the tattered remains of Starla's leathers, causing him to chuckle to himself before resuming his laid back chase.

	Starla felt truly over the moon as the gently-chilled air ran over every inch of her furred skin.  Her natural physique wasn't particularly aerodynamic, but her feral mind was far from thinking about her bouncing assets as she ran.  Overwhelmed by instinct, Starla suddenly skidded to a halt as a peculiar scent reached her wet nose.

	Prey.  Small prey.  A rabbit, nearby.  Weak.  Vulnerable.