It was twilight, slowly but surely the shadows would only increase as the sun began its descent and the Moon began its accession to the inky blot sky. As the purple and blue skies slowly faded to black, a whisper of bitten northern wind carried a harsh cold nip to it, warning the woodland creatures that Winter was here. Winter was her favorite season. Only those strong and clever enough survived while the weakest were left to be preyed upon, Mother Nature is never forgiving and neither was the gruesome creature. We find our Monster tucked away in a low cavern, hidden behind an assortment of grey and brown rocks. She was curled tightly in her niche, sleek ebony tail covering her scarred and marred face. She was a loner through and through and being among those in Diveen made her antsy and uncomfortable. From their nonstop generosity to be bombarded with questions about the attack she had to runaway annoyed with it all. She can’t understand pack-hood, being on her own for so long she couldn’t understand or cope being around anyone. She had to get away and the Crags were her sanctuary. Yet what was considered her sanctuary was nothing but a nightmarish hell for any prey she brought in. As a creature that thrived on myths and legends she was content with waiting for night to fall, when she could rise with the moon and prowl through her favored grounds. Yet as tightly in a ball as she was, her warmth and sleep was disturbed by the growling coming from her stomach. As another harsh zephyr flew into her comfortable home her tattered ear twitched. She lifted her head up from her position ever so slowly, mindful of her healing wounds. Her mauled face was healing up quite nicely, whatever source of herb of natural medicine the healer used in Diveen had done its job. However, the mountain lion took some fur with it, rotted muscle peeling and dripping off revealing some bone in certain areas, the cat’s claws raked down her face had done its job. Moving up slowly she ignored the numbing pain coming from the right shoulder trailing down her v-shaped grey tipped chest. That are had be sliced wide open, but once again, it healed up just fine, and it wouldn’t be long before she wouldn’t have to worry about being easy on her body when she hunted. She could still run as any healthy wolf, but she couldn’t do it for a very long period of time. Inhaling deeply enjoying how the cold air burned her lungs she padded out slowly from her little hellhole, massive paws breaking some of the bones of her recent prey, their bleached hollow pieces breaking in two.

Stepping into the lightly dusted snow she ignored how the white snowflakes seem to speckle along her obsidian hide. With one firm body shake the snowy debris fell from her thick fur as her head turned to the left and right taking in her surroundings. Craning her head slightly she inhaled that cold breeze carrying the scent and promise of a tasty treat nearby. Her tail, trimmed with silver swayed side to side lazily as she headed in that direction that advertised the area where she should dine next. Quietly she would move at a comfortable pace, stirring her body to life as she focused on the idea that she would be getting a delicious treat, oh so quickly. As she moved through the snow landscape the moonlight would enhance they grey markings along her chest and trimmed tail, the gruesome scars that littered all over her body seemed like medals of valor from her past battles. The diamond patched print shone a very light grey against that ebony background. If she didn’t have all those ghastly scars or mauled face it would be claimed that she would have been a rather beautiful wolf. Yet ever since she was attacked at a very young age, those dark grey three-claw mark that raked the left side of her face, starting from her forehead over her eye down her cheek and muzzle was the very first flaw that kept her from receiving any claim of beauty. Yet the Monster never cared for her exterior appearance. She rather embraced her disgusted features. After all, you wouldn’t want to meet this creature in the bump of the night.

Yet all those scars were a curse now. Recently, after her attack by the mountain lion, she noticed she had much her action had grown on affect from others. Many recalled her appearance and many knew that this particular ghastly creature was responsible for saving the Angel King and his whelp. She was not aware of just who those white wolves were and she wished she never interfered. Not because she wanted them dead, but from the way she was being treated by others. She would rather be left alone. Yet that was difficult even now. Her pelt held the stench of various male wolves, but mainly the stench of Chael overpowered Isola and the rest of her Angels. This particular ivory and ebony wolf, with blood tipped feet, had been stalking her, watching her. According to his explanation she was his and he was hers. Their souls entwined by Fate. She was having a rather difficult time believing such a thing. Why would she be paired up with one that was weak? His stench of fear overpowered her nose and it caused her wild instincts to want to kill him. In her mindset anything that was weak deserved to die. Yet something kept holding her back, some unknown force was keeping her from attacking and she didn’t like it, not one bit. He was not worth her. Never was she a prideful creature, but she knew full well, that she was not meant to be his and curse the Fates for doing this to her. She never asked for it. Being around him was causing some sort of unknown urge to want something else out of him. It wasn’t something she understood because it was new, but she knew the consequences would be awful. Thinking it best that she stayed away from any trace of him, she continued marching on coming across the small pond, the waterfall not frozen yet from winter’s touch. Sapphire eyes noticed that rather large obsidian and crimson and although she knew It wasn’t wise to approach she couldn’t keep herself from wanting to fill her stomach with water before she started her hunt. Moving silently the Monster made her way towards the pond her tail held in a neutral stance, her head held high not in an egotistical manner, but in an alert position. Keeping the distance wide from him she stopped at the bank of the pond and lowered her head, greedily lapping the water as quickly as she could, ignoring how some over the water trailed out from the tiny holes in the right side of her muzzle where the cat’s claws caused permanent damage. Yet her agile frame remained alert, ever vigilant, as those sapphire eyes, mixed with amethyst flecks would shift towards the massive brute keeping tabs on him. He smelled of pack and to her disdain that familiar scent of Chael was on him too. Oh how wonderful.