As I step out into the night,
I feel myself start to change.
Bones lengthen, muscles stretch.
I feel my snout grow long, and
immediately pick up the scent of nearby prey.
I shiver with anticipation.
Anticipation of the hunt.
Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I shoot off through the woods! Lust grows as my prey draws near. Now crouched in the tall grass, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Lunging, snarling, ripping, tearing. The young buck falls to it's knees, and dies with fear in it's eyes. Ripping out it's throat, the wolf raises it's bloody muzzle to the sky and releases a victorious howl.
Then, it lowers it's snapping jaws and feasts on the tender, young meat before it.
Once through, the wolf lopes back into the woods, drunk on the blood of another soul.
After placing several miles between itself and it's kill, the wolf curls up under a willow tree, and falls asleep with the faint, but distant sound of Hells Bells ringing in it's ears.
