A Dart of Deadly Serum
As soon as the cloaked man shot me—in the shadow of the foundry, where rain and steam mingled with soot—I snatched the dart from my flesh. Too slow. The poison sac was already empty, its contents working on my blood, transforming me into an animal. Already a line of fur ran up my forearm. Growing teeth forced my jaw to open, and I howled. Then snarling, I bounded after my executioner.