I had managed to leave the confinements of the shore line.. again.. Slowly I was beginning to set out on my own adventure rather than searching for my own ship mates. I had come to the conclusion that maybe I was the only sole survivor of the wreck. And yes although it did sadden me, there was nothing else I could do about it. I wasn't going to risk my own life by paddling out to the sea once more in search for them. That would be foolish. I simply had to start from scratch. But where does one truly start when they were simply accustomed to one way of living? So far I had come across three others that were similar to my species. One very kind at heart, a lovely dame that put her effort into helping me regain my strength... The other two blood thirsty females.. But all I had come across were females. One of the three seemed impregnated which had to have meant that there were other brutes lurking about, that was given. After all it did take two to tango, now didn't it? The sand had slowly vanished behind me after I slipped into the forest.. The ocean now miles in the opposite direction, and I was beginning to think that perhaps I was making a wrong decision, but like I said where else was I going to start? As I continued to make my way deeper and deeper into the gloomy forest, everything became much more enclosed. Things were beginning to look the same and I almost felt as if I were doing nothing but walking in complete circles. The high tree tops above doing their best to block out any sunlight that tried to peak through to light the way. The salty air had vanished and instead this air seemed thicker, covering everything with a thick dense fog. Scents of others soon faded, and seemed scarce as if no one ventured here for days. Twin towers twitched ever so slightly taking in all the sounds that I could. However I heard nothing but crows cawing their usual calls. Even they sounded distant to me. Piercing blue eyes scanning over every little piece of land mark available which was nothing but tree's and thick underbrush. Perhaps I should have found a trail and stayed on that rather then wondering off on my own. Confusion set in. Surely I wasn't the only one out and about. I had come to the assumption that I had landed on an island populated by wolves. Something that I would only imagine in my wildest dreams. Which made me wonder why on earth I was surrounded by nothing but two leggers in the past. Questions had begun to fill my thoughts rampidly. And even though I was questioning a lot I still remained aware of my surroundings in case anything that wished to inflict harm had emerged.

~*~ Slow and methodical as the bending of the trees, came the muted, heavy tread of a predator. Keen eyes, as cold as they were yellow, scanned the lifeless swaths of forest. Ears, one whole, one in shreds, flickered back and forth. Uncommonly massive shoulders arched and folded in steady time with the pawsteps. There should've been a tail to sway in time with this hunting mechanism, but there was on a doberman's stub where a full wolf's bush used to be. Cursed moose. But Gargoyle wasn't one to hold only grudges...well not unless they were very personal affairs - otherwise there'd just be too many of them. As a yearling, he'd been ambushed, beaten to a pulp and left for dead. After something like that happens you either let stuff go or let it consume you. In a strange turn of events, Gargoyle could be said to have done both. That attack had led him into the...the dark days. But he was pulling free of that now. Or thought he was. And yet every so often there was a thrill in his veins: a desire for blood that both sickened and elated him. These times were so rare now. But they frightened him. Terribly. It could be said that the one thing he feared...was himself. Was what he knew he could be and what he could do. Too much bad blood in his genetics. Murder was in his DNA. He fought it long and hard, but all go through times of spiritual weakness, and in those times he had the presence of mind to get himself out of his packland. These past few days he'd been a monster. The forest was littered with the broken bodies of every living creature who'd dared to cross his path. From rabbits and voles to a full grown deer. -And only a few bites taken from each. He could smell the faintest traces of fox on the breeze. The scavengers of the forest had learned to follow him, enjoying his delicious trail of death. But his fury was spent now. He could feel the bloodlust ebbing away and his mind returning. Always this was the worst time. Because with the healing came the shame, the anger, the fear, the self-loathing. And true to form not a bit of it seeped into his features. His face was a mask. His eyes were blank as stone. When his steps brought him to a great fallen trunk, he leapt upon in, gathered his paws, and sat brooding. The massive, mottle-furred creature might've been a statue for all that he seemed to care about the world. He staid, sitting there for some time. But eventually a new scent came to his consciousness. Those tattered ears picked up other steps. He was no longer alone. "Who goes there?" It was a bland and toneless rumble, low and quiet, to be observed or ignored at the stranger's peril. ~*~ ~Don't want to let you down, but I am H.e.l.l.b.o.u.n.d.~