Raha's transformation cycle + story

I wanted to show her first transformation (there are no scars yet, as you can see...) plus wrote a little story to illustrate it better.
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The full moon sat ghostly in the sky, its cold light spilling across the snow-drenched field. The night was still, the kind of silence that pressed against the ears, broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot. She walked alone, wrapped in a heavy fur coat; her breath hung in the air, white and fleeting.

Her name was Raha. She was a member of the nearby village, and she was known for her solitary nature and fiery temper. Many wondered how someone like her had even managed to marry.

She preferred to keep her distance, often wandering far from others… until one fateful day when she crossed paths with a creature she wished she hadn't.

That encounter with a young werewolf left its mark, though she believed killing him had put an end to it. If only it had...

She pulled the cloak tighter as she moved through the field, her hands trembling, but not from the cold. It was the opposite. The strange, feverish heat had been building inside her since dusk. Her skin prickled, as if a thousand invisible needles were pressing from inside of her. Her limbs ached, her joints burned. It was as though her own body had turned against her, rebelling against its very shape. She took off her cloak, hoping it would fix the issue, but it seemed as it only made it worse.

She stopped. Her breath coming in ragged gasps.

The pain hit her all at once.

It started in her spine, a bolt of agony that made her scream and twisted her body into a fetal position. Her cry shattered the silence of the night, carrying with it something feral, something not entirely human. Her nails raked at the frozen ground - and her clothes, and her skin, ripping it all off, revealing patchy islands of grayish fur. She felt every muscle burning in the invisible fire she could not escape.

Her face was next. The bones of her jaw cracked audibly, shifting, elongating. Her teeth pushed against her gums, sharp and jagged, her tongue tasting blood as they grew. Her ears pulled upward, her nose and mouth melding into a snout. The world around her became sharper, the smells of snow, dirt, and the air itself were intoxicating to the point it felt nauseating.

But the worst part wasn’t the pain.

It was rage.

It surged up from the deepest parts of her, wild and uncontrollable, a molten fury that consumed her thoughts. Faces from the village flashed in her mind: smirking, whispering, judging. Her husband’s face joined them, and with it came memories of betrayal, of pain, of grief and loneliness that cut deeper than any blade.

Her trembling ceased. There was no more burning.

Raha rose on unsteady limbs, her feet (or paws?) digging into the snow. The field glowed silver under the moonlight, the scene unnervingly serene in contrast to the storm raging inside her. She screamed again, revealing massive glistening canines, then threw her head back - and howled. A sound tearing through the stillness, primal and hungry.

The woman she had been was gone... Or was she?

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Again, I'm not a native English speaker, so if something is off, please let me know