Common

Under the cloak of night's obsidian darkness, he became one with the shadows. He moved silently beneath the watchful gaze of the ancient pines, their shadows his allies. His icy eyes, glinting in the obscurity, surveyed the slumbering landscape. For the Úlfhéðnar, the midnight hour held a primal allure, where ethereal figures danced and hidden realms beckoned. His hooves traced a silent path through the tapestry of pine needles, carrying him furthur from the Lagoon. There was an unseen pull that tugged at him, its mystery heralded and haunted him.

He paused, his gaze cutting through the darkness, searching for any unfortunate souls abroad at this hour. Warm vapor billowed from his nostrils like dragon's breath as he slipped into the heart of the Commons, planning to stalk and ambush his next victim. He waited, hidden in a dense thicket, falling asleep beneath the waning sickle of a moon.

The commotion stirred him from his slumber, the sound of a deep, callous voice cut through the stillness: "You're mine now, and your foal. The bite I just gave you confirms it." A smirk touched the Úlfhéðnar's lips as he rose and approached the scene. A nameless mare and foal were being accosted by an unfamiliar stallion, their conversation filled with talk of ruins that quickly bored him.

He had no right to interfere, but the encounter offered a chance to indulge his instincts, to alleviate the gnawing boredom that consumed him. Stepping from the shadows into the light, the Úlfhéðnar revealed a wolfish grin that stretched across his whiskered muzzle.

"Come now, Tattoo," he growled, his hungry gaze raking over the mare's delicate neck and supple haunches, "that is no way to speak to a lady." He continued, offering a saccharine suggestion as he stepped closer and inhaled her sweet scent, I think they like it when you tell them how pretty they are, or that they smell nice... something like that?" his icy eye flashed and his wolfish grin returned on his whiskered lips.