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THE RED WOLF

We stalked the young blood taker through the mountainous woods. We’d eaten a strange meal earlier, but shifting between our forms took energy, and I was getting hungry again.

That would unfortunately have to wait.

The male, his scent thick with muddled blood, was loud, sated from mating, and not paying attention at all to the pack of wolves that now followed him back to his home.

He was lucky we didn’t mean him any harm, otherwise he would have been an easy, if poor tasting, next meal.

The blood taker we traveled with helped obscure us further with his shadow magic. The darkness that followed me was cool, and made my fur stand on end.

I did not like it, but he insisted it would help.

We did not need help for this.

But my human trusted this male, so I allowed him to blanket me with a black cloud.

Eventually the young one stopped, casually looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was around, before whistling strangely. Another whistle like a bird call responded, and then he stepped forward, vanishing into thin air.

His scent was gone.