The werewolf within Soososs stirs as the moon reaches its zenith, drawing her to the sports field for a primal, carnal celebration. The night is her playground, the shadows her allies. She dances alone, her body a blur of motion, her fingers tracing intricate, ancient symbols in the air. As she reaches the apex of her dance, she stops, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She turns to face the moon, her eyes glowing with a feral light. With a low growl, she begins to pleasure herself, her fingers moving with a wild, untamed rhythm. The night echoes with her cries of ecstasy as she surrenders to the pagan ritual of her lust.