Wolf at the Door(open)

The truck rumbled past the gate past the open gate, the tinted windows and black paint job making it look like patch of black against the brighter colors of the institutes lawn. Inside, Tyson could hear the change in terrain as they moved from the bumpy road to the smooth and maintained tar driveway. Thankfully his head was starting to clear a little now that they had left the road and gotten away from the city. The clamorous noises that had assaulted his ears had died down, and when the truck came to a halt it left an almost palpable sense of quiet in the absence of the constant pounding of the engine. With it came a sense of relief, at least to his hearing, his nose was still assaulted by the mass of smells of the truck, and now that it had stopped, new smells started seeping through the cracks and crevices. However, what he smelled was as much a relief as the sudden quiet. He could smell much more earthy aromas that helped ease the nausea that he was feeling from the more 'organic' smells of body odor that permeated the trucks interior. There was overturned earth, the fresh scent of cut grass, faint floral scents, and... something smokey? No that was not the right word, char was more like it, a faint burnt smell, older then the current smells, though he could not tell what caused it.

"This is it," said the man across from him, moving to the back of the truck and pulling on the handle. The truck flooded with light and Tyson had to close his eyes as it stung after being in the darker interior of the truck for so long. The interior of the truck was washed with the influx of fresh air and the earthy scents became that much stronger. Now he could pick up a great number of other scents, those of a number of people who had been in the area, though the age of the scents varied, while among them several 'oddities' lingered that he couldn't identify. He opened his eyes and saw the building for the first time. He stuck his head out of the truck and looked at it. It looked like a old university or something, it had a welcoming appearance and helped reassure Tyson that it was the right decision to come here.

Grabbing his bag from under the seat, he stepped down from the truck, landing on his padded feet as the sun washed over his fur and oversize shirt and shorts, the only thing that really fit him that he could manage to pull on. He didn't have much in his bag, just what few articles of clothing that had been recovered from his fathers place. His mother would be sending some of his possessions from home. He hadn't really talked to her yet, someone had transcribed an email to her to send his stuff to the institute. She thought he had gotten a scholarship, and he hadn't told her the truth. He couldn't, not yet. After he was turned back, maybe, but he couldn't face her right now, not like this. He didn't want her to be scared of him, the less she knew about what happened the better.

He saw someone by the front door, talking to the man from the truck, probably the headmaster. It looked like he was filling him in on the details of the trip, his sensitive hearing picked up scant bits of explanations about his 'mental state' and the like. He tried to ignore it, not wanting to dwell on his 'condition'. He would be fine, he knew it, these were the experts after all, they would be able to figure out how to change him back.