Another bright and sunny autumn day was coming to an end. The bright light of the sun was an annoying thing to the creature that thrives on darkness. Like any horrendous Monster she came out only when she was needed. Unlike others that lived underneath obscurity her crimes had yet been brought to light. Two children of Glorall witnessed the gruesome death of their Mother. Iromar did not have their Servitor any more. Imprints were of importance to those that lived here and yet she strongly despised her imprint. Weakness was something she could not tolerate and to be tied to such a weakling angered her. So, she had broken status quo, she had done the unimaginable and acted upon an unholy taboo - she had decided his presence wasn’t allowed anymore. It was painful at first, but that pain had numbed instantly – perhaps because whatever tiny bit of soul she had, now disappeared at Chael’s death allowing the lupine to be soulless once more. Remorse was something she could not feel. All she felt after his death was relief and satisfaction. When her own daughter asked for her Father’s whereabouts the aloof wolf said nothing and it was enough to remind her daughter that his fate could be similar to her own if she continued sniffing around. If this cruel beast had no repentance for slaying her own imprint then she wouldn’t have any qualms killing her own flesh and blood. With the sun making its slow descent the warmth from its rays was being sucked away by the oncoming night and her ebony pelt melted her perfectly within the woods that had shielded her from the Sun.

Quietly the aloof creature continued her trek searching for what she knew would quench the dark and twisted thoughts that swarmed inside her mind. Being amongst other wolves was a painful thing. Ever since she was a pup she was always considered an outcast. Feared as a mere child by her own pack they claimed she was marked, cursed to become something they all feared. The grey patch of fur between her eyes along her forehead was a testament to their beliefs, but really they should look upon her bloodstained teeth and claws and her taste for wolfish flesh. There had been a time when she was younger that she was longing for a place to belong, to be among others of her kind, but after years of torment from others and from her sinister actions those ideas had faded away. Now she was concerned for herself and no one else. Grey paws barely left any marks on the ground as she moved, a heavy fog seemed to curl itself around the gruesome atrocity. With the sun still making its painful slow descent she would appear out from the trees and into the fields, the fog still clutching to her as if they didn’t want her to leave just yet. There was hardly a spot on her frame that did not carry a jagged scar, a trophy of sorts from past victims, and she could have been quite the looker. Yet she was not born and made to be such a thing. Only those with a true sight would see her potential, see her as a benefit, and yet those particular individuals most likely didn’t exist.

The cool winds of autumn picked up her scent and scattered it through the dark fields a subtle warning that someone that didn’t belong was making its way through. The autumn winds carried the sharp touch of winter, a promise that its cold grip would kill off the weak. Winter was one of her favorite seasons. It revealed to those destined to die that their time on Earth was coming to a close and they had no use, but to be fed off of – literally. Her hunger was always sedated during these quieter months. Eating old meat was much better than nothing, but with the season of Winter came the promise that fresh meat would be just around the corner. This evening the aloof creature continues her trek with an air of unconcern as she walks over the invisible line of pack territory. The last time a wolf barked at her for trespassing their blood was spilt on the sands while their grown children watched in horror. Packs were never a concern to her, they were just a group of wolves that could not survive on their own. They were weak and weakness was a cardinal sin. It is a rarity that her presence is made after years of not being seen, really, they should be honored. Many used Monsters as scape goats for their own uses. Parents would use terror stories to scare their children about the Monsters in the night. Others sought out to find the individual that was already broken, and mold them into an even more terrifying creature, and use their creation for their needs until that creation turns on their creator. Monsters come when they hear the call and there is no telling how long they stay. They say Monsters come when they are needed, whether it was to serve a teachable lesson, kill off another’s enemy, or just to be gawked at. So – who made the call and for what reason?