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Description
Rhys Durand was a good man.
He was compassionate, kind, he never left anyone alone to do the washing up after dinner. He liked to talk, to laugh and to smile. He liked the odd ciggy now and then, if he could wangle one off a mate. He liked his classes at St Lawrences, his tutors were kind and allowed him to practise anatomy after lessons were through. They would give him the key to the morgue, with a finger over their mouths as if to say
our little secret
and he would smile widely, the curve of his lips filling his face.
A smile the girls loved.
He had such a career ahead of him, his knowledge of medicine and his kindly patter served him well in his aims to be a doctor. He wanted to be a GP, a jack of all trades as far as medicine went. So it was funny, that the life of this good man with his many hopes and dreams,would be so quickly altered.
He was bitten one night, after a late session in the morgue. He had been dissecting the liver of a woman afflicted with cirrhosis and had been too fervent in his study to realise the fullness of the moon, to remember his tutors earlier warnings. It had been dark, his arms full of folders and paper work and the alley between him and the open street so long and thin that there was no chance of escape unharmed.
He was bitten on his neck, a common spot, the canines of the bottom and top jaw an equal distance apart on either side. One had pierced through to the larynx. His cries of pain reached the street and he was hauled into an ambulance within 15 minutes (the special type, he noted dazedly, the plain white ones which screamed infected).
He did not bleed out, he found out later, his wound quickly clotted but oh, weren't the hospital staff surprised to find when they arrived, not a writhing man in the trolley, but a large black dog.
More of a wolf than anything.

There is a 0.03% chance that the bite of a Lycanthrope (also known as Biters in common English slang) can affect the bitten in unusual ways. The mutation of the virus entering the body can be caused for various reasons; hormones (the mutation is more often found in teenagers than any other age group), blood type (some have been found to be more resistant, usually the rarer types) and also the stage of the moon cycle and how far the original biter is in it. Rhys is still unsure of the cause of his own. It's hard to research when you have no thumbs.

The doctors told him he was lucky, that he had his mind, his human mind, and at least he was to be human on the full moon, and not a dog permanently. Rhys could only answer this with a reluctant growl, rumbling through his new and still aching body.
His information was given to the local Cynd council, who would find him refuge, which they did, he shared with a cheerful Cynd family's caravan for a month. They even found him a job, something to make him useful.
They got him an interview as a bodyguard for a woman, a biter, whose Moons were greatly taxing to her body. She didn't change like a normal biter, into a predator who could rip out men's throats, this woman was prone to seizures and excessive bleeding during her time. She was a mutant too. He was to be her doctor on the night of the moon and her guard the rest of the month.
He briefly met her at the interview and she was cynical. Firstly that a large dog would ever work as a body guard, and even more so that the dog before her was indeed a biter, let alone a doctor. She was a bitter woman, in her forties, sharp of tongue and dark of humour. She did not seem kind, or even good but Rhys found that even in his canine shape, his smile could not leave him.

Anyone remember Rhys? He's from my werewolf stories. I wanted to give him a bot of a reboot, make him squarer, thicker. (His second name is pronounce Duh-rand not Durrend, bit like Dewitt.) He's so fun to draw and he looks so manly!
all mineee

Description
Rhys Durand was a good man.
He was compassionate, kind, he never left anyone alone to do the washing up after dinner. He liked to talk, to laugh and to smile. He liked the odd ciggy now and then, if he could wangle one off a mate. He liked his classes at St Lawrences, his tutors were kind and allowed him to practise anatomy after lessons were through. They would give him the key to the morgue, with a finger over their mouths as if to say
our little secret
and he would smile widely, the curve of his lips filling his face.
A smile the girls loved.
He had such a career ahead of him, his knowledge of medicine and his kindly patter served him well in his aims to be a doctor. He wanted to be a GP, a jack of all trades as far as medicine went. So it was funny, that the life of this good man with his many hopes and dreams,would be so quickly altered.
He was bitten one night, after a late session in the morgue. He had been dissecting the liver of a woman afflicted with cirrhosis and had been too fervent in his study to realise the fullness of the moon, to remember his tutors earlier warnings. It had been dark, his arms full of folders and paper work and the alley between him and the open street so long and thin that there was no chance of escape unharmed.
He was bitten on his neck, a common spot, the canines of the bottom and top jaw an equal distance apart on either side. One had pierced through to the larynx. His cries of pain reached the street and he was hauled into an ambulance within 15 minutes (the special type, he noted dazedly, the plain white ones which screamed infected).
He did not bleed out, he found out later, his wound quickly clotted but oh, weren't the hospital staff surprised to find when they arrived, not a writhing man in the trolley, but a large black dog.
More of a wolf than anything.

There is a 0.03% chance that the bite of a Lycanthrope (also known as Biters in common English slang) can affect the bitten in unusual ways. The mutation of the virus entering the body can be caused for various reasons; hormones (the mutation is more often found in teenagers than any other age group), blood type (some have been found to be more resistant, usually the rarer types) and also the stage of the moon cycle and how far the original biter is in it. Rhys is still unsure of the cause of his own. It's hard to research when you have no thumbs.

The doctors told him he was lucky, that he had his mind, his human mind, and at least he was to be human on the full moon, and not a dog permanently. Rhys could only answer this with a reluctant growl, rumbling through his new and still aching body.
His information was given to the local Cynd council, who would find him refuge, which they did, he shared with a cheerful Cynd family's caravan for a month. They even found him a job, something to make him useful.
They got him an interview as a bodyguard for a woman, a biter, whose Moons were greatly taxing to her body. She didn't change like a normal biter, into a predator who could rip out men's throats, this woman was prone to seizures and excessive bleeding during her time. She was a mutant too. He was to be her doctor on the night of the moon and her guard the rest of the month.
He briefly met her at the interview and she was cynical. Firstly that a large dog would ever work as a body guard, and even more so that the dog before her was indeed a biter, let alone a doctor. She was a bitter woman, in her forties, sharp of tongue and dark of humour. She did not seem kind, or even good but Rhys found that even in his canine shape, his smile could not leave him.

Anyone remember Rhys? He's from my werewolf stories. I wanted to give him a bot of a reboot, make him squarer, thicker. (His second name is pronounce Duh-rand not Durrend, bit like Dewitt.) He's so fun to draw and he looks so manly!
all mineee