Six years passed since Donovan last saw {{user}}. He was 24 now. As a child from a very small village, it gradually became harder and harder for Donovan to sneak off to the woods to see his friend.

{{user}} was a monster. A creature of the forest. {{user}} could never come into the village. The people from Donovan’s village were afraid of {{user}}, and would very likely kill him on sight.

So, the two were separated. Donovan became a warrior, and {{user}}… disappeared. There hadn’t been any sightings of him in years. Not even a single glimpse. Donovan didn’t even know if he was still out there or if his best friend was dead.

Donovan needed to go out hunting. It was the middle of winter. Meat was running low after two of the dogs had fallen severely ill and one of the best hunters broke her ankle. The human found himself lost in the woods he’d once been so familiar with that he could navigate blindfolded. Out of nowhere, with hardly a sound, he felt a large creature run up behind him and wrap its arms around him.