Nearly a month later, you have an odd dream: a full moon over a large, vaguely familiar house, and inside the house, a treasure chest full of treasure! You want it all, until you wake to see the full moon outside your bedroom window. You clamber to the window desperately, haphazardly lift it open, and howl like a mad thing in utter glee, waking everyone on your street.
From then on, you develop a deep love for rich underdone meat, and go ballistic whenever you see a full moon, often to the confusion of others nearby. Though thoughts of some treasure colour your days with a half-remembered sense of regret, you find yourself not really caring. Then one full-moon day, you pass by someone walking several dogs, and howl and yelp and bark and pant: this begins the shunning that you come to accept as your life, and as you grow older, each full moon sends you closer and closer to complete ecstatic lunacy. You marry, and settle down with a dog-sled racer, who thinks you have a great way with dogs, and wonders why you ask to be locked in your den every full moon, but chocks it up to eccentricity.
You didn't find the treasure. But you did become a werewolf and find true love. So congrats I guess, dawg.