I wake up cold, just like every other day. My nerves quaking and my joints clicking, I pull myself up and crawl out from under the fallen tree that blessed me with shelter. As soon as my paws touch the snow, I shiver. By the time this thing is over, I'm sure I'll hate the winter.

Flecks of snow fall from my thick coat, and I shake the remnants off with a sniff of my nose. Staring up at the sky, I can already tell the snow is on its way once again.

Every day gone by, the white sky dumps more cold fluff onto the landscape. Every. Single. Day.

Energy leaking from my bones, I push forward, trying to list off everything I remember in my mind.

Everything seems to be fading away slowly, but I don't want to let it slip away. Some things are foggy, but I repeat everything just in case.

My name is Opal. I'm 23 years old. I'm a werewolf. I was born in West Virginia. My parents were murdered by rogue werewolves. I was adopted by a lycan. His name is Ace. I live in Montana. I belong to the Slate Penumbra Pack.

I have a mate. His name is Keifer. He's a lycan. He hasn't about forgotten me. Right?

Keifer is the thing I remember the most for some reason. Some days, it's hard to recall every detail of my life. Bit and pieces of information are leaking through the cracks.

It's been so long since I've been in my human form that I don't even remember what color my eyes are. I can't remember what my favorite movie is, or the taste of dessert. It's little things like that.

Those things scare me. Sure, it's not important information, but it shows how quickly I'm deteriorating. I'm losing my mind. My brain is turning to mush.

What day is it? What does the sun feel like?

Maybe I should stop, I tell myself, it's only making me depressed.

I stretch my legs, praying to the Moon Goddess for strength today. I've been traveling for days, although I'm not exactly sure how many days precisely. They sort of blend together. It's the same every day anyway, wake up and travel onward. Listing things obsessively in my head. Relying on my instincts.

The land seems to stretch on forever. I can hardly focus on it. I find myself zoning out, my gaze dizzying and my head swirling. I take breaks often to just lay down and gather my bearings.

I'm so sick of it already. Hunting and scavenging for food. Running when I hear a sound. Snow clumping in my paw pads. It's all so exhausting.

Staying out of sight of the roads and the humans is also extremely difficult. At times, I can hear the trucks and cars zooming in the distance, and it spooks me. I sniff the air, searching for the lingering scent of exhaust. All I detect is cold wind. I guess that means I'm a safe distance away.

Lifting my head, I look over at my backpack. I suppose it's time I shift back and check my map. It's essential to check that I'm headed in the right direction. But I've been avoiding it. I have to shift back at some point, but its not going to be easy.

Sighing, I try to focus, picturing my human form as best I can. Every part that I can remember. Two arms and two hands. A pair of pale, furless legs.

My animal body sluggishly transforms, pain exploding through my system. I pause. That's not supposed to happen. It's unbearable. My bones and muscles are contracting and reforming, shrinking and enlarging, snapping and popping. Agony accompanies the actions.

I howl in pain, writhing around in the snow as my fur recedes, replaced by skin. Black crawls into my field of vision, my brain swims in agony and confusion. My headlands in the snow, the chilly white stuff melting against me. I blink, trying to fight unconsciousness. I know I'm losing though. The pain is putting me to sleep.

As I drift, I picture Keifer's face. His messy hair. His wicked smile.

This will be worth it in the end, it has to be. I either die, or I succeed. And I'm okay with that.

It's my last thought before I give up the fight, falling beneath the surface of darkness.

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If you're reading this, you are brave :)