I can never decide in my mind what Daisy looks like when she succumbs to the hunt, and i rather like it that way. Becoming animalistic, losing that grasp of humanity that even monsters get to hold into us a terrifying concept.

Everyone knows about werewolves- whether or not you pretended to be one as a child everyone knows that to be a werewolf is to be cursed. To be such a beast that you lose control over yourself; and in turn you curse your loved ones by allowing them to watch you turn into something beastial and other.

Those of you who grew up engaged in spirituality will also be aware of the bone aching horror of seeing the wrong spirit in a body. Watching that canine thing look at you with human eyes, say things to you that a creature of that calibre should never be able to articulate, yet it says these things to you nonetheless.

Equally, many know the fear of seeing a thing that may once have been a human and for all intents and purposes appears to be, but again is simply wrong. The soul is misshapen and all that you can see in the eyes of the one you once loved is an undying, uncontrollable hunger. Even the positive actions it takes are to feed the hunger, you can’t trust a person if you do not see a person when you look at them.

Whatever variation of these things daisy became after laying down her life to serve the hunt, it placed Jon, Martin, and most of all Basira in a place of nauseating terror.

To see something that’s wrong, beastly, warped, is enough to hold you where you stand, but to see someone you love devoid of all that really makes them themself? Agonising.