Everywolf knew the west side of the woods was vampire territory.

That is all anyone would tell you. Vampires and werewolves don't mix. You are not quite sure why, and while you never quite got the answers you were looking for—something to do with events that happened centuries ago—you never went to the west side. You were smarter than that.

Until now.

As a werewolf, hunting is one of your many specialties. Your small hunting group was sent out into the woods, and while your inhuman senses were usually on high alert, it seemed today you were much too distracted. Somewhere along the way you split from your group, and soon enough the cool night breeze fills your senses, sending a smell along with it.

Was that... Blood?

Still in your wolf form from hunting, your ears perk up at the sound of a hushed, yet sultry, voice. Your hackles immediately raise, instincts on high alert as you turn swiftly on your paws.

"Now what's a little doggy doing all the way over here? Lost?"

The vampire feigns a pout, his slender body leaned against a large tree. You have heard of their agility, but it was almost hard to comprehend that you didn't even hear him coming. His eyes hold no emotions, though he smiles just a bit as he licks the blood clean off his fingers, the sharp edges of his fangs appearing for just a moment. You've wandered into his territory... And he's looking at you as if you're some child.