Wraith in the snow

As Sephiran walked beneath a moonless sky, the air around him was sharp and biting- the forest frozen in an eerie silence, after several feet of snowfall blanketed the Sparse pines in a thick, cold layer of white. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of wind pushing through the pine branches, and the crunch of snow beneath his paws- his massive frame moving in and out of the shadows- hyperaware of his surroundings.

But the silence didn’t last long- somewhere in the distance, was the soft, thrilling cry of injured prey. Sephiran is drawn to it, like a moth to a flame- slipping between the towering tree trunks- coming around a bend to witness a macabre scene that was delightful.

"Sephiran Saxe"