| When she was born she was cursed before she could even take her first breath. It was in their tradition that one that carried the mark of grey along the forehead was a creature that was not permitted to live. Destruction and horror was all any creature with that very mark could create. She did not know and she would not know until she got older. At a tender age she had already developed the taste for blood over her own Mother’s milk, the coppery taste was far more delightful than the sweet white substance. Her puppy teeth was far sharper than normal and she took delight when it came to biting her siblings. Barely weaned she was chased out, attacked, all because of superstition. Living on her own Fate had allowed the she-wolf to survive, but not without her struggles. Only those strongest could survive and what she had endured alone was enough proof to any that she was far capable of so much more. In the back of her mind whatever purpose she served she did not know, but the only thing she knew was that she was a Monster and nothing could possibly change that.
For years she traveled going everywhere wherever her ebony paws took her. The only thing that followed her was the stench of death and the anguish cries. When in her prime she enjoyed haunting the mountain tops, stalking the valleys brining nothing with her but the promise of Death. For some reason she got a kick out of terrifying others, hunting down young wolves, and always making sure to teach any pack a valuable lesson. No wolf had stopped her and nothing ever could. Though now as she begins to turn a new chapter of her life the need to hunt her own flesh and blood was slowly dying away. Every now and then she would get that desire again, the need to chase a creature with the same mind, the joy when her fangs sunk into the flesh of another. That need was quenched earlier in the Spring when some daft boy attempted to befriend her and in his mistake he lost the Mother that attempted to protect him. Within these lands she had grown subtle and hid within the shadows only popping out on occasion. The last time she came out she protected some old wolf and found her imprint and it left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. Though now she was out and about and she wasn’t disappointed at all with what she saw.
One grey trimmed torn ear twitched at his words that dripped like honey from his jaw. Her ebony cranium would tilt only slightly watching as his own skull would jerk in such an odd way. As the dial rotated downward she noticed his emerald eyes keeping locked on her and not once did she look away. Rather she remained focused one pink tongue rolled out from her muzzle as she lapped up some of the excess. There was something different. For some unknown reason she could feel it. Briefly her muzzle would lift catching a different odor coming from the young brute. His darker, thicker voice did nothing but appease a part of her from within. A subtle smirk appeared upon her mutilated façade as her cold voice slithered out slowly with a sickly venomous tone.
“Something no one can possibly give.”
It is true. There was something that the cold-hearted creature had always wanted since she was young. Though what that was she could hardly remember anymore. As a child she understood that there was a need for nightmares to come to life and so she decided to do just that and bring fear everywhere she went. Cold eyes narrowed as he began to investigate. Slowly she would get up allowing the male to approach fulfilling whatever thing that simply drove his curiosity. As he neared her hip her grey trimmed tail would sway slowly knowing full well he seemed attracted to…something. When he moves his ebony muzzle towards her own, black lips would pull back slowly showing briefly her teeth. Slowly one canine would start at the bottom of his muzzle near his nose, and as she moved her own upwards, her tooth trailing and applying gentle pressure as if…to test him. Her own frame would take one step forward ignoring the kill allowing enough space for him to close. As he speaks his name she simply stares at him quietly. She had never uttered her name before never allowed anyone to know. To her, knowing one’s name meant you were giving the other power. The foolish male would succumb to his instinctual needs, all because the magic and power behind a name was gone from him- he didn’t have control. Briefly she would slide her muzzle down, back to his nose her tooth still putting light pressure, as her warm breath seethed out smoothly, a cold, but light whisper ended with an almost velvet purr allowing his name to savor on her tongue.
“Elijah.”
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