Inktober Day 4: Teeth

"No... No oh no no no..." Sabra flustered as she felt a tightness in her top. She looked up at the night sky to see the all to obvious cause of her discomfort. "I thought I had a few more days!!" She shuddered and doubled forward as her body began to grow. Ever since that fateful night in the Museum, where Sabra Dent stood before an ancient prehistoric totem pole that was rumored to be possessed, or cursed or something, and found herself inflicted with the WereSaber curse... it sounded hokey to her too, but tell that to her new top that her massive claws were tearing away like tissue paper. Ever since then, her life felt like it was being written by some pervy internet artist with a fetish for large cat girls and transformations. However, those thoughts were fleeting as her massive body finished tearing through her clothes leaving her furred body exposed to the night air. New scents hit her as her mind was overcome by instincts.

Instincts to hunt, Instincts to eat, and Instincts to mate...

The bipedal monster roared before disappearing into the night, not thinking once about the eventual reversion transformation, the lack of clothes as she wanders through the woods, or the fetish fuel cliche of her stumbling into a camp of dorky campers and taking some of their clothes from their unexplained clothesline or asking them directly to borrow some clothes while trying to cover herself shyly which somehow accentuates the curves she's trying to hide.

Today's prompt should have been Meta Cliches xD