I'll soon be turning

[Caillen Winters]

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table © Libri
ooc: <33

It was the scent that alerted him first.

The male was downwind - There was no other way he could have slunk so close to the woman on the hill without being so. He recognised her smell instantly, the way that one remembers nuances from a nightmare and can then detect them in all things come the light of day. It could be no other but her, the red-eyed hellion who had almost taken masculinity and life from him so long ago.

He had been a boy then, on the cusp of manhood but still so painfully innocent. A babe of the world, seeking adventure and frivolous fun at the hands of loving strangers. And, oh! He had thought her one of the spirits his mother spoke so frequently of, one of Morrigan's own, spawn of the forest itself. What painful disillusions she had provided him.

The man was not lurking for her, but for another with ruby eyes and a soft body that had welcomed him. His ties to all other lives had been lost, along with what seemed to be a center to his drifting mentality. Loneliness had starved him, and danger had made him lean. The man still had no fighting skills to speak of, but the rough months had transformed his fatty muscles into iron ones. Taller in size than even she would remember, the Wolfdog was now a hunter, and a survivor.

He approached in Lupus form, as a defensive mechanism. Oversized fangs would propose a better intimidation when equipped with the raw power of the massive quadruped, and perhaps that alone would put her off from any attack. His throat, once concealed by a human scarf, was now visible - Hanging about it was the silver pendant, the stag with the moon snared in its antlers.

When he was certain that she had detected him, his sat on his haunches and merely watched her. The scent of the corpse in her hands did not disturb him as it once would have, but icy eyes lingered on the scalpel in her hand.