I'm not scared of the dark

Forsaken had started to travel close to the packs of the East in search of his prey. A dangerous tactic if you looked at it logically. But Forsaken cared little for logic and less for the wolves of packs. They were, in his eyes, little more than scum. He might not have known the two packs that had tore his family apart, nor the man who slew his father, but Forsaken didn’t care about the details. He hated them all.

But then, Forsaken thought, who was he to judge? Were they not trying to get by in this dog eat dog world also? Was there really even such a thing as good an evil? As he pondered this, fancying himself quite the philosopher, a scent caught his attention. Had Forsaken been at the war between Hellstrom, Abaven, and Imperium he might have recognized the pack scent the female carried. But that was not the reason he targeted her, ironic as that was.

Forsaken walked on, following the small strip of land that lead to the island. Perfect! Seemed the little girl had isolated herself. His lips peeled back to a pleased smirk, and Forsaken relished in the power he believed he held. Perhaps a man or a woman might come one day and take it away from him. But today? No... He was certain that today was not that day.

So ‘saken trailed after the Abaven wolf...

...Until he finally found her.

The man’s golden eyes shown with malice as he approached from behind. His true intent, at least for that moment, was revealed as he approached. But then Forsaken lifted his head, putting on his mask to fool the youth. Gaze softened and a playful smirk came to his features. A seasoned wolf might have felt unease at such a look, but this fae? Forsaken suspected she was green enough to not know the difference.

“This island is lovely, is it not? Could make a wonderful summer home.” Even his tone could be confused for that of a gentleman if one was naive enough. All part of his game.