"No, I swear I'm not a Wolf!" The angry Villagers close in on the Village Fletcher. The Innkeeper shoves the bolt through the manacles, securing her arms. Thunder echos through the church
As the Executioner Sword cleaves the head off of stride, her body twitches and her legs flail. Fur sprouts from the cuffs of her wet shirt. You look to where her snarling head lay and realize that you've been successful in your day's hunting. Lighning streaks across the sky and you all hurry in from the rain beginning to fall.