Draven
I'm Your Worst Nightmare Dressed as your Day Dream
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With the midnight hour came his time to shine. He was not of a uniform coat - no, he was not one of those vargs painted in ebony who melded into shadows, nor was he an ivoro who melded into a snowstorm - for though each of those bacme invisible, perfectly camoflauged under the right circumstances, the rest of the time they stuck out like a sore thumb. Draven's coat was painted with greys and blacks, whites and tawnys. But always he was well hidden unless he chose to be otherwise. Each step was painfully placed with care, and yet it was something that had been so ingrained into him that it required almost no thought, no effort. No, the reason that midnight was his time to shine was because it was within that darkness, within the shadows, that monsters came to life.
Usually they existed only in the corners of a pups' mind, brought to life by stories meant to teach lessons through fear. Nightmares were often a side effect, and the pups were either kept up all night for fear of closing their eyes, or they were trapped in the dream world, chased until the morning hours woke them. But Draven was not a monster made of dreams and imagination - he was flesh and sinew, bone and teeth. A creature all too real, and all too dangerous. And he had one goal set in his mind - to kill Halina, the blasphemous femme who had dared to taunt him and punish him, making him look the part of a fool. The slut female who was an aberration to nature, her desires set upon others of her kind rather than brutes. And Draven wanted only to kill her, to feel her pulse jumping and then fading away upon his tongue and then to ravage her body until she was rotting. He wanted her defiled before the whole world to see... But the plan that had been set years in the making had been ruined. He had though to poison her, and had... But then some bitch of a healer had found the antidote, ruining everything. For his mistake of not researching the healers in the area, he had paid dearly, being tortured nearly to the last breath of his life before being allowed to heal. Thus had been the circuit that he had lived upon, his own masochism allowing him to survive. Until the Ice King's lazed mind had slipped up, and allowed the devil to escape from his prison.
Draven had been loving his new home - this Packless regions of cavern's, dark enough and in solitude. He thrived in this, enjoying the fear that most other wolves felt upon entering his domain. There had been years and years of legend describing a dark monster that had preceded his very life and existence - Draven had been in the darkness for months now and had seen neither hide nor hair of another. But now? The legends would be fulfilled, and he would not disappoint.
The beast had been restless as of late, and had missed the taste of wolf blood in his maw... Or even just their screams. No longer did he enjoy mice and rats and coneys - sure they had sated him and sustained him, but in order for him to thrive and truly enjoy life he wanted more. Draven had already surprised one fae... And now, it seemed another had entered his domain. Draven crept up upon the uniquely colored femme, until he was nearly right behind her. "Brought me a midnight snack, have you darling? Perhaps you thought that the rabbit would appease me? But dare I say - yes of course I do - you look much tastier than that dead rabbit."
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Ω Draven Ω Untamed Demon Ω Escaped Convict Ω Azura Ω
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