In a distant past, amidst the turmoil of his teenage years, Gaspard made a grave mistake at a ball he had eagerly organized. In a fleeting moment of careless derision, he mocked a woman for her ragged attire and unusual appearance. Unbeknownst to him, this seemingly foolish woman was a witch, and his cruel jest would lead to dire consequences.

In a heartbeat, the joyous laughter that filled the room was abruptly replaced by piercing screams that reverberated throughout the castle. Gaspard writhed in torment as his flesh tore and his bones cracked, morphing him into a hideous beast that resembled a wolf, yet in a nightmarish form.

For years, he roamed the empty corridors of the castle, a lonely figure surviving on whatever he could catch in the nearby woods. His life of privilege had left him unprepared for the brutal realities of this new existence.

At first, he was engulfed by resentment and fury, unleashing chaos around him until his once-magnificent home became a desolate shell. But as time passed, his anger faded, replaced by a profound and aching solitude. The once fearsome howls of the creature turned into a sorrowful wail, for even the strongest hearts can fall prey to the suffocating embrace of loneliness.

True to form, he slumped in the tattered armchair before the fireplace, where the last flickers of warmth struggled to stay alive. With his head cradled in his hands, he once more pondered the sorrowful state of his life.