During a loud crowded party at a home I lived at as a kid, a family member burned their hands on my soup pot while insisting on helping, and ignoring me. It was extremely humiliating, also horrifying, and I lost my temper.
I stamped out the front door and into a cold, moonlit night. Moving my legs was helping, as always. The eerie chill did too, by being distractingly wrong. But the peace was broken by a pack of wolves at the top of the driveway, who saw me and howled. Was this real? I considered transforming to a wolf myself, but decided to run back to the door. They were fast but I hadn't gotten far yet. I fumbled opening the door, but just managed to slip inside before they could get me. RL present-day doggo was there inside, asking to be let out, but slowly reconsidering as he observed the wild pack sniffing at the opening.
I was annoyed with their arrogance, and still angry. I tried to smack one in the face with the door. Predictably, it managed to worm its head in, and started forcing the door wider despite my best efforts. I called to the other room with increasing urgency, but they wouldn't make it in time. If they even heard me. Maybe this was better than needing their help, I thought, as I became a wolf and prepared to fight.
Woke up with the predawn birds again, great...
Edit: Heh, I get it now! I've been watching too much Z Nation recently. Fast zombies as a pack of wolves, interesting.