you cut the line - and the girl behind you snarls at you, bearing her teeth.
There's something to that snarl. Not just someone joking around. An authority, a primal energy, to it. A timbre to the sound, that a human throat shouldn't be able to produce.
Her stare is intense. Her eyes, piercing. Something about her gaze... you can almost feel a strange heat from her. Are her eyes... no, they can't have slitted pupils, that's impossible... right?
regardless, she had established her displeasure. You step out of the line and walk to the end. Perhaps believing a little more in your grandma's stories; tales of beasts of legend living among us.
you come back home, and close your door. Taking your shoes off and setting your handbag down on the coffee table, you take off your jacket - revealing a shirt with a pair of holes cut into the back.
Phew, what a long day, you think. And that asshole who cut in line in front of you! Tch. You gave him the ol' snarl - that always works. Letting the mask slip, and the façade weaken for just a moment - a great way to deal with unruly humans.
You stretch your arms and yawn - and let the glamour unravel. Your wings return, your scales regrow. You feel the always-wonderful feeling of your horns growing back once more. You glance in a little countertop mirror nearby, into your own beautiful, slitted, inhuman eyes. It feels like such a relief as always - and you look way prettier like this, too.
And to think, just a few years ago, you didnt even know this was the real you. That you thought that human disguise was your true form. It's a good thing you ran into that old werewolf - who sniffed you out and helped break the curse.
You flop down on your couch, curling your tail around atop your lap. You let out a deep, low growl, relax a little, and pick up a game controller. Heh. They'll never know the real reason why you're so good at strafing runs.