Post by sameth on Mar 24, 2007 15:41:52 GMT -5
Name: Sameth
Gender: male
Race: human
Corner Preference: Earth
Age: 17
Description: Sameth is tall and lean, with a graceful but muscular look hanging about him. He had long arms and legs, making him an incredibly fast runner when he puts his hear (and back) into it. He’s also a skilled climber with years of experience, along with many scars from accidents. One scar is especially prominent, from a time when he was startled out of a tree by a huge mother bird and hit a rock on the bottom, slicing his arm open from the shoulder to elbow.
He has very short, bristly brown hair that juts out over his forehead, with prominent red, vein-like streaks trailing through it. His hair color makes his bright green eyes very bright and thoughtful. They are the color of fresh mint leaves and when he is thinking hard it is almost like you can see his brain working behind his eyes. The rest of his face is often expressionless, though it usually has a soft, friendly look. He has a small tattoo just above the corner of his left a or a dark, silvery blue moon, that, unless you look at it very closely, looks like a oddly shaped birthmark shadowed below his eyebrow. This is the only real mystery of Sameth and he had no idea where it came from.
He is rarely seen without his set of swords and his knife. He also carries his fathers old bow with him at all times. His swords aren’t much to look at at a glance, or even a good long look, but in the heat of battle they seem to turn a vivid, glowing blood red, with the details that seem to move. His knife is also rather mysterious, though not quite as extraordinary. It has an oak handle with think, almost invisible designs carved across it
Sameth is always seen traveling with a young, dark purple dragon named Maximus. At the shoulder Maximus is about two feet three inches tall, and with his head fully extended about three foot five. His wings have a span of four feet two. He has small, one inch claws and two little matching horns protruding from just above his eyes. It’s hard to see expressions in his face, but they are clear in his ears and eyes. Which are the shades of plums, with glittering hints of yellow orange in them. He has a sharp snout that can give a beautiful smile, when he chooses, but his teeth are fearsome. He loves to run and jump around, though he hasn’t learned to fly yet.
Personality: Sameth is a pleasant enough person, though his social skills are lacking somewhat because of all the years he has spent training instead of being around people. His old friendly attitude and wanting to please ways have been slightly marred by the great weight he carries from his father’s death and promise of revenge, making him out of touch and distant with the world. He has very few friends, and often only has Maximus for company on those days when he feels very lonely. But if your patient with him, and you let him get to know you, he is a loyal friend and is someone you would want to have as an ally, and not as an enemy. Betrayal is something that Sameth does not take likely, and if you hurt him or his friends you’re in trouble. His anger can run deep and bad feelings with him are hard to fix, because Sameth doesn’t easily forget.
Skills: Sameth has all of the weaknesses of a normal human. He is mortal, he can die many different ways. He is very fit, and knows only the basics of survival. He can use a sword, knife, and bow well. He can speak with Maximus and no one else can understand them. He is a fast runner.
Sample Post: His father still wasn’t pleased. Neither was he. It seemed that every day was like this for Sameth. He did his best to please his father and he was always disappointed. He was only eight years old! Why couldn’t his father just be proud of him for what he could do?!
Sameth sighed and put his bow down by the target. He then slowly trudged back to this house, where his mother was announcing dinner. “You just need to try harder.” His father said roughly., patting him on the shoulder firmly. “Yes father.” He responded mechanically. This was how most of their ‘conversations’ went. It always made Sameth feel lonely. He whished he had a companion. Just someone he could talk to and play with every now and again.
He sighed again, and continued walking. Later that day, Sameth was taking a walk through the woods, when he stepped on something soft and white, which bent under his foot. He stopped, bent down, and stared at it. It looked like a egg shell. He picked it up and stood there, wondering about it. He heard a rustling nearby, followed by a high pitched squeak. Sameth jumped, and dropped the large egg shell. He began to move backwards, slowly, from the bush. A little yellow butterfly came and alighted on one of the blue and white flowers that were pocking randomly out of the bush. Suddenly, it was gone. With a snap of purple jaws, it was chewed up by….something…for a evening snack.
Sameth was startled, but, as he stepped back, he stumbled over a large stick, and, because he always been a curious boy, he had an idea. He slowly and carefully picked up the branch and stepped toward the bush. He reached out with the stick and gently prodded the bush. When the stick suddenly shuddered, he resisted the urge to release it from surprise. Something had grabbed onto the other end.
Sameth gave the stick a sharp tug, and with it rolled out a small, scaly creature. What is that? Sameth wondered. “Well, lets see if I can take you home,” Sameth said to it. “That is, if you’ll cooperate….” He trailed off, reaching toward the little beast with a rope he had brought along with him when he went on hikes. He tried to toss it over the little animal’s head, but it flinched and leapt back into the bush, and no further poking with the stick could convey it out again.
Then Sameth, now being what he considered very brave and a little stubborn, remembered the small snack of cheese, and a slice of turkey his mother had packed him for a snack. He quickly took the three things out, broke them each in half, and tide them together with his belt. He slowly bent down, and placed the little meal near the front of the bush. He waited until he saw that the scaly snout was poking out from between the leaves, it nostrils taking in every scent, but mostly the miniature meal resting just inches from its hiding place.
Sameth stealthily reached forward and placed the rope just between the tip of the nose and the small snack. The animal flinched, as though he knew there was now an obstacle between it and the food, but the temptation was too great. The head snapped forward, but Sameth pulled the treat out of its reach, and pulled the roped at the same time, catching the purple beast.
The trip home was long and tedious, with all the struggling, pulling and straining between beast and boy. By the time he was at the threshold of his home, the rope had almost snapped, and, growing desperate, Sameth threw the food and his belt a few feet past the doorway. The little creature hesitated only a second before it leapt after it, and Sameth stepped inside quickly and closed the door behind them both.
The creature quickly noticed it had been tricked, and in a flash darted under a nearby cabinet, making sure to knock over several objects in its pursuit to hide. The large racket brought Sameth’s mother to the room, vaguely wondering what her son had done now. Upon sight of the scaly tail peeping from the shadows under the cabinet she let out a screech and nearly fainted.
“What is that you have brought into my house?” She yelled at the top of her voice, taking several steps back in her haste to put distance between herself and the creature.
“Don’t worry mother,” Sameth said quickly. “It won’t hurt you. I found it out in the forest; I think it’s a dragon!”
“A dragon.” His mother repeated breathlessly. “You find a dragon in the forest and you decide to bring it home. Sameth what is the matter with you?”
At these words Sameth’s father appeared in the doorway, and Sameth could have kicked himself. Of course, when Sameth does something dumb, his father is always there! “What’s all yelling and banging about?” He questioned with his usual gruffness he used on disobedient servants. Sameth’s mother simply pointed to the purple tail that was now flicking nervously back and forth. Sameth’s father starred at it for a full minute. Sameth waited on edge, sure he was going to get the worst punishment of his life.
But, to Sameth and his mother’s great surprise, his father simply shrugged and said. “If he takes care of it and keeps it out of trouble, I don’t see why he can’t keep the thing.” He raised a hand before the pale woman before him could open her mouth. “He is getting to old to be coddled and needs some responsibility. I think this is the perfect way to teach him some lessons in life.” He pointed at his son. “Take it to your room, I’ll have one of the maids bring up a cage we have for the dogs. Keep it in there till you think of a way to keep it under control.”
Still surprised that he was getting away with this with all limbs still attached, Sameth quickly thanked his father and lunged at the rope that was still around the creatures neck. It was another great battle to get the terrified dragon up the stares, but Sameth didn’t really give a care. He was scratched, sweating and more worn out then he had ever been in his life, but his father trusted him with this great responsibility!
By the time he got to his room a cage had already been brought up. Sameth was able to maneuver the dragon in and shut the door. He then shoved it under the space that was meant for his legs in the large oak desk that took up a whole wall in his room. This made the cage darker, and the dragon seemed content to hide in the shadows.
With a sigh Sameth fell onto his bed, completely worn out. He was just thinking that he might as well go right off to sleep when a knock sounded from the door and the next thing Sameth knew he had to catch a very large leather book that was being tossed at him. “Here.” His father said from the hall. “If you are going to raise a dragon you’ll need that. Take good care of it, it’s old.” And without waiting for a reply he shut the door firmly.
“Thank you.” Sameth whispered to the closed door, and quickly opened the book. The pages were yellow with age and the ink was smeared, but Sameth could still read the scrawling letters on the first page. A Guide to Training Dragons. Cool. He flipped through the first chapter, skimming the long list of tips, strategies and information.
“It says here if I name you, I form a bond with you.” He frowned. “Wonder what they mean by ‘bond’. Ah well.” He over at the cage. He could partly see the little creature; its nose, tip of its tail and half of its flank was in the light, the rest was in shadow. AS Sameth gazed at it, it cocked its head, looking up at him with just as much curiosity as he was feeling about it.
“What kind of name would you like?” He asked, strangely not feeling silly that he was talking with the creature. “How about….Echo?” The thing gave him a disgusted look. “No, why not, Violet, Lavender, Spot, Tiny, Apollo?” More disgusted looks. This went on for a while as Sameth spit out ever name he could think of, but to no avail.
“Come on.” He screeched in frustration. “I’m running out of ideas here. How bout Maximus?” He said, tossing out a name of a gladiator he had once read about.
He expected another look, but instead, to his great surprise, the thing squeaked. “Magimus!”
Sameth starred at the little purple dragon for a full minute. Finally, he croaked. “Excuse me?”
“Magimus!” The thing said again, and Sameth pinched himself to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. “Majimus, Matimus, Maximus.” The little creature finally said in triumph, looking very pleased with itself as he swished his tail round and round.
“So this is what they meant by bonding.” Sameth whispered under his breath. “I can understand you now.”
“Munderstand.” The thing echoed. “Ponding.”
“Well, I can sort of understand you.” Sameth added, getting down from the bed and crawling over to the cage. “But we can work on that.” He got down so he was at eye level with Maximus, and gave him a gentle smile. “You can be my new best friend”
“Rend!” Maximus replied excitedly, and with that note dropped like a stone, instantly asleep. Sameth watched it for a long while, not noticing when he too dozed off.
There were the sounds of howls and the cries of men as he died. Sameth did not remember waking or running to his window. All he knew was his world came crashing down with his father’s body. He fell to the earth with his bow raised, arrow knocked, and with a creature sinking its jaws into his neck.
His father’s blood mixed with the red from the other bodies that were scattered around, wetting the paws of the wolves that slunk from shadow to shadow. The one who had token his father down raised its white head and let out a howl, the other’s answering the call. They turned toward the gate and sped into the darkness, there work done.
“No!” Sameth croaked, his voice refusing to work as an odd feeling grew in his chest. He ignored the cries that were coming from the cage and flew out of his room and down the stairs as fast as he could. He found his mother’s body in the doorway to the outside. There was a great gash in her chest and her eyes were open and starring.
Tears were falling from his eyes now as he stumbled over his mother’s body and ran toward his fallen father. His eyes too were open, and gazed blankly at the dark sky above. His hand had released his bow and arrow as he had fallen, so the weapon now lay at his side.
As the stench of blood filled his nose and the sight of his father filled his brain, a hate Sameth had never known rose within him. With a roar of rage he snatched up the bow and arrow and tore out of the courtyard and into the forest. Those wolves would pay.
He followed them for what seemed like hours. There tracks were fresh in the mud and there had been no time for any of there trail to fade. An hour before dawn he came to the edge of a clearing where the scent of ash and fire met his nose.
What was left of a house sat smoldering at the other side of the clearing, looking bleak in the light from the moon. Sameth could make out the shapes of more bodies scattered in a circle near the house, and right at where the door was supposed to be two charred remains lay.
And then he saw it.
It was the white wolf, with blood from his father’s neck still coating its muzzle. The hate rose past Sameth’s fatigue and he knocked the arrow and took aim. He would take down his father’s killer.
But as he pulled back the string, something he thought only happened in fairytales materialized before his eyes. The wolf’s body morphed and changed, and where a fearsome creature once stood, the shadowy form of a girl appeared. Sameth felt just a hint of shock, but it was not enough. Man or beast, she was still a murder. He let the arrow fly, and as the girl turned toward him, he begged whatever gods that were listening to let the arrow hit its mark.
But fate had other plans. The arrow missed, and all it did was graze the girls shoulder as it flew into the trees beyond. A scream of rage tore from his throat as he shouted in vein to the sky. “You will pay.” He screeched. “I swear upon my parent’s grave and my very soul you will fall by my arrow, or I will die trying!”
He couldn’t stand there; he heard the sounds of the other wolves coming closer. He took one last look at the girl in the shadows before turning and running back deep into the forest, plots of revenge buzzing in his mind.
Gender: male
Race: human
Corner Preference: Earth
Age: 17
Description: Sameth is tall and lean, with a graceful but muscular look hanging about him. He had long arms and legs, making him an incredibly fast runner when he puts his hear (and back) into it. He’s also a skilled climber with years of experience, along with many scars from accidents. One scar is especially prominent, from a time when he was startled out of a tree by a huge mother bird and hit a rock on the bottom, slicing his arm open from the shoulder to elbow.
He has very short, bristly brown hair that juts out over his forehead, with prominent red, vein-like streaks trailing through it. His hair color makes his bright green eyes very bright and thoughtful. They are the color of fresh mint leaves and when he is thinking hard it is almost like you can see his brain working behind his eyes. The rest of his face is often expressionless, though it usually has a soft, friendly look. He has a small tattoo just above the corner of his left a or a dark, silvery blue moon, that, unless you look at it very closely, looks like a oddly shaped birthmark shadowed below his eyebrow. This is the only real mystery of Sameth and he had no idea where it came from.
He is rarely seen without his set of swords and his knife. He also carries his fathers old bow with him at all times. His swords aren’t much to look at at a glance, or even a good long look, but in the heat of battle they seem to turn a vivid, glowing blood red, with the details that seem to move. His knife is also rather mysterious, though not quite as extraordinary. It has an oak handle with think, almost invisible designs carved across it
Sameth is always seen traveling with a young, dark purple dragon named Maximus. At the shoulder Maximus is about two feet three inches tall, and with his head fully extended about three foot five. His wings have a span of four feet two. He has small, one inch claws and two little matching horns protruding from just above his eyes. It’s hard to see expressions in his face, but they are clear in his ears and eyes. Which are the shades of plums, with glittering hints of yellow orange in them. He has a sharp snout that can give a beautiful smile, when he chooses, but his teeth are fearsome. He loves to run and jump around, though he hasn’t learned to fly yet.
Personality: Sameth is a pleasant enough person, though his social skills are lacking somewhat because of all the years he has spent training instead of being around people. His old friendly attitude and wanting to please ways have been slightly marred by the great weight he carries from his father’s death and promise of revenge, making him out of touch and distant with the world. He has very few friends, and often only has Maximus for company on those days when he feels very lonely. But if your patient with him, and you let him get to know you, he is a loyal friend and is someone you would want to have as an ally, and not as an enemy. Betrayal is something that Sameth does not take likely, and if you hurt him or his friends you’re in trouble. His anger can run deep and bad feelings with him are hard to fix, because Sameth doesn’t easily forget.
Skills: Sameth has all of the weaknesses of a normal human. He is mortal, he can die many different ways. He is very fit, and knows only the basics of survival. He can use a sword, knife, and bow well. He can speak with Maximus and no one else can understand them. He is a fast runner.
Sample Post: His father still wasn’t pleased. Neither was he. It seemed that every day was like this for Sameth. He did his best to please his father and he was always disappointed. He was only eight years old! Why couldn’t his father just be proud of him for what he could do?!
Sameth sighed and put his bow down by the target. He then slowly trudged back to this house, where his mother was announcing dinner. “You just need to try harder.” His father said roughly., patting him on the shoulder firmly. “Yes father.” He responded mechanically. This was how most of their ‘conversations’ went. It always made Sameth feel lonely. He whished he had a companion. Just someone he could talk to and play with every now and again.
He sighed again, and continued walking. Later that day, Sameth was taking a walk through the woods, when he stepped on something soft and white, which bent under his foot. He stopped, bent down, and stared at it. It looked like a egg shell. He picked it up and stood there, wondering about it. He heard a rustling nearby, followed by a high pitched squeak. Sameth jumped, and dropped the large egg shell. He began to move backwards, slowly, from the bush. A little yellow butterfly came and alighted on one of the blue and white flowers that were pocking randomly out of the bush. Suddenly, it was gone. With a snap of purple jaws, it was chewed up by….something…for a evening snack.
Sameth was startled, but, as he stepped back, he stumbled over a large stick, and, because he always been a curious boy, he had an idea. He slowly and carefully picked up the branch and stepped toward the bush. He reached out with the stick and gently prodded the bush. When the stick suddenly shuddered, he resisted the urge to release it from surprise. Something had grabbed onto the other end.
Sameth gave the stick a sharp tug, and with it rolled out a small, scaly creature. What is that? Sameth wondered. “Well, lets see if I can take you home,” Sameth said to it. “That is, if you’ll cooperate….” He trailed off, reaching toward the little beast with a rope he had brought along with him when he went on hikes. He tried to toss it over the little animal’s head, but it flinched and leapt back into the bush, and no further poking with the stick could convey it out again.
Then Sameth, now being what he considered very brave and a little stubborn, remembered the small snack of cheese, and a slice of turkey his mother had packed him for a snack. He quickly took the three things out, broke them each in half, and tide them together with his belt. He slowly bent down, and placed the little meal near the front of the bush. He waited until he saw that the scaly snout was poking out from between the leaves, it nostrils taking in every scent, but mostly the miniature meal resting just inches from its hiding place.
Sameth stealthily reached forward and placed the rope just between the tip of the nose and the small snack. The animal flinched, as though he knew there was now an obstacle between it and the food, but the temptation was too great. The head snapped forward, but Sameth pulled the treat out of its reach, and pulled the roped at the same time, catching the purple beast.
The trip home was long and tedious, with all the struggling, pulling and straining between beast and boy. By the time he was at the threshold of his home, the rope had almost snapped, and, growing desperate, Sameth threw the food and his belt a few feet past the doorway. The little creature hesitated only a second before it leapt after it, and Sameth stepped inside quickly and closed the door behind them both.
The creature quickly noticed it had been tricked, and in a flash darted under a nearby cabinet, making sure to knock over several objects in its pursuit to hide. The large racket brought Sameth’s mother to the room, vaguely wondering what her son had done now. Upon sight of the scaly tail peeping from the shadows under the cabinet she let out a screech and nearly fainted.
“What is that you have brought into my house?” She yelled at the top of her voice, taking several steps back in her haste to put distance between herself and the creature.
“Don’t worry mother,” Sameth said quickly. “It won’t hurt you. I found it out in the forest; I think it’s a dragon!”
“A dragon.” His mother repeated breathlessly. “You find a dragon in the forest and you decide to bring it home. Sameth what is the matter with you?”
At these words Sameth’s father appeared in the doorway, and Sameth could have kicked himself. Of course, when Sameth does something dumb, his father is always there! “What’s all yelling and banging about?” He questioned with his usual gruffness he used on disobedient servants. Sameth’s mother simply pointed to the purple tail that was now flicking nervously back and forth. Sameth’s father starred at it for a full minute. Sameth waited on edge, sure he was going to get the worst punishment of his life.
But, to Sameth and his mother’s great surprise, his father simply shrugged and said. “If he takes care of it and keeps it out of trouble, I don’t see why he can’t keep the thing.” He raised a hand before the pale woman before him could open her mouth. “He is getting to old to be coddled and needs some responsibility. I think this is the perfect way to teach him some lessons in life.” He pointed at his son. “Take it to your room, I’ll have one of the maids bring up a cage we have for the dogs. Keep it in there till you think of a way to keep it under control.”
Still surprised that he was getting away with this with all limbs still attached, Sameth quickly thanked his father and lunged at the rope that was still around the creatures neck. It was another great battle to get the terrified dragon up the stares, but Sameth didn’t really give a care. He was scratched, sweating and more worn out then he had ever been in his life, but his father trusted him with this great responsibility!
By the time he got to his room a cage had already been brought up. Sameth was able to maneuver the dragon in and shut the door. He then shoved it under the space that was meant for his legs in the large oak desk that took up a whole wall in his room. This made the cage darker, and the dragon seemed content to hide in the shadows.
With a sigh Sameth fell onto his bed, completely worn out. He was just thinking that he might as well go right off to sleep when a knock sounded from the door and the next thing Sameth knew he had to catch a very large leather book that was being tossed at him. “Here.” His father said from the hall. “If you are going to raise a dragon you’ll need that. Take good care of it, it’s old.” And without waiting for a reply he shut the door firmly.
“Thank you.” Sameth whispered to the closed door, and quickly opened the book. The pages were yellow with age and the ink was smeared, but Sameth could still read the scrawling letters on the first page. A Guide to Training Dragons. Cool. He flipped through the first chapter, skimming the long list of tips, strategies and information.
“It says here if I name you, I form a bond with you.” He frowned. “Wonder what they mean by ‘bond’. Ah well.” He over at the cage. He could partly see the little creature; its nose, tip of its tail and half of its flank was in the light, the rest was in shadow. AS Sameth gazed at it, it cocked its head, looking up at him with just as much curiosity as he was feeling about it.
“What kind of name would you like?” He asked, strangely not feeling silly that he was talking with the creature. “How about….Echo?” The thing gave him a disgusted look. “No, why not, Violet, Lavender, Spot, Tiny, Apollo?” More disgusted looks. This went on for a while as Sameth spit out ever name he could think of, but to no avail.
“Come on.” He screeched in frustration. “I’m running out of ideas here. How bout Maximus?” He said, tossing out a name of a gladiator he had once read about.
He expected another look, but instead, to his great surprise, the thing squeaked. “Magimus!”
Sameth starred at the little purple dragon for a full minute. Finally, he croaked. “Excuse me?”
“Magimus!” The thing said again, and Sameth pinched himself to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. “Majimus, Matimus, Maximus.” The little creature finally said in triumph, looking very pleased with itself as he swished his tail round and round.
“So this is what they meant by bonding.” Sameth whispered under his breath. “I can understand you now.”
“Munderstand.” The thing echoed. “Ponding.”
“Well, I can sort of understand you.” Sameth added, getting down from the bed and crawling over to the cage. “But we can work on that.” He got down so he was at eye level with Maximus, and gave him a gentle smile. “You can be my new best friend”
“Rend!” Maximus replied excitedly, and with that note dropped like a stone, instantly asleep. Sameth watched it for a long while, not noticing when he too dozed off.
There were the sounds of howls and the cries of men as he died. Sameth did not remember waking or running to his window. All he knew was his world came crashing down with his father’s body. He fell to the earth with his bow raised, arrow knocked, and with a creature sinking its jaws into his neck.
His father’s blood mixed with the red from the other bodies that were scattered around, wetting the paws of the wolves that slunk from shadow to shadow. The one who had token his father down raised its white head and let out a howl, the other’s answering the call. They turned toward the gate and sped into the darkness, there work done.
“No!” Sameth croaked, his voice refusing to work as an odd feeling grew in his chest. He ignored the cries that were coming from the cage and flew out of his room and down the stairs as fast as he could. He found his mother’s body in the doorway to the outside. There was a great gash in her chest and her eyes were open and starring.
Tears were falling from his eyes now as he stumbled over his mother’s body and ran toward his fallen father. His eyes too were open, and gazed blankly at the dark sky above. His hand had released his bow and arrow as he had fallen, so the weapon now lay at his side.
As the stench of blood filled his nose and the sight of his father filled his brain, a hate Sameth had never known rose within him. With a roar of rage he snatched up the bow and arrow and tore out of the courtyard and into the forest. Those wolves would pay.
He followed them for what seemed like hours. There tracks were fresh in the mud and there had been no time for any of there trail to fade. An hour before dawn he came to the edge of a clearing where the scent of ash and fire met his nose.
What was left of a house sat smoldering at the other side of the clearing, looking bleak in the light from the moon. Sameth could make out the shapes of more bodies scattered in a circle near the house, and right at where the door was supposed to be two charred remains lay.
And then he saw it.
It was the white wolf, with blood from his father’s neck still coating its muzzle. The hate rose past Sameth’s fatigue and he knocked the arrow and took aim. He would take down his father’s killer.
But as he pulled back the string, something he thought only happened in fairytales materialized before his eyes. The wolf’s body morphed and changed, and where a fearsome creature once stood, the shadowy form of a girl appeared. Sameth felt just a hint of shock, but it was not enough. Man or beast, she was still a murder. He let the arrow fly, and as the girl turned toward him, he begged whatever gods that were listening to let the arrow hit its mark.
But fate had other plans. The arrow missed, and all it did was graze the girls shoulder as it flew into the trees beyond. A scream of rage tore from his throat as he shouted in vein to the sky. “You will pay.” He screeched. “I swear upon my parent’s grave and my very soul you will fall by my arrow, or I will die trying!”
He couldn’t stand there; he heard the sounds of the other wolves coming closer. He took one last look at the girl in the shadows before turning and running back deep into the forest, plots of revenge buzzing in his mind.