It feels strange, settling into new lodgings alone and waking up by herself.

She's spent her entire life by her best friend Palamedes' side, a perfect cavalier always following a few steps behind him; and more recently, she's been living in cramped, confined quarters with two other women. Privacy has been almost unheard-of, and so this rickety cot is a luxury she's unaccustomed to.

So Camilla makes a point of being outside the trailer in the evenings, an introvert surprised by how much she misses company: you'll find her sitting on a crate she must've stolen from the carnival supplies, quietly people-watching by the light of a lantern. There's a warm kettle beside her for tea, her boots propped up against the steps of her trailer.

She's a new arrival, and this is her first island, and she's still figuring things out.

Cam is usually stoic and terse, but the beer and blue cotton candy leave her mellow and far more talkative than she's ever been. For the first time in her life, she's the one striking up cheerful conversations with the person beside her in the seething crowd watching the band: "I've never actually been to a concert before," she says, sounding a bit like an anthropologist surveying wild animals, bemused by what she sees. "Have you?"

Courtesy of Pirate Pete, there's the drawing of a sword and a simple numeral drawn on her forearm in bold black ink: VI, for the Sixth, for the space station back home she misses, even now. Jammed elbow-to-elbow together in the crowd, it's easy enough to accidentally bump into the tattoo.

Congratulations, Camilla Hect: you are now a werewolf.

Which leads to one now-grumpy young woman wandering the fairgrounds after that terrible encounter in the haunted house, partially-transformed in Teen Wolf flavour: looking half-lupine with glowing gold eyes, pointed ears, claws, fangs, and a slightly ridged brow. Following the scent of food, she'll trail anyone eating anything containing meat, plaintively asking (begging, rather): "Can I have some of that?"

Or, later, you might just find her sitting morosely on a tree stump, a half-eaten turkey leg in her lap. Help her follow the ride attendant's advice to break the curse?

Totally open to other things, like scarfing down snacks at a food stall; awkward run-ins trying to get a quick shower in; platonic trips in the tunnel of love, or something else entirely. Want to confab first or a personalised starter? Feel free to hmu @ quadrille or via PM! I'm also happy to match brackets, so switch away if ya like.