Her canines lengthen, turning into long, sharp fangs that dig into her lower lip, her nails lengthening into claws that tear into the sheets balled up in her fists.

Restlessness overtakes her. Her body feels like it's vibrating.

She must find that sound. She must find that sound, she must get out of this room. That need, that hunger claws its way up her throat and settles into her mind. This restlessness that fills her is preparation for the hunt -- for the chase and the eventual kill.

Whatever she had been in that distant before-time, she is that thing no longer. She is a predator and somewhere, wherever the divine music of that beating heart may be found, is her prey.