The woods were a place you had always been warned not to traverse at night, yet here you found yourself. Your little red hood is pulled over your head trying to block out the winter chill. Your intentions had been to get to your grandmother’s house, wanting to help her through the impending snow storm. But now you’re bumbling around the woods, lost, and at night as snowflakes begin to flurry to the ground.

You clutch your basket filled with pasties and fresh bread and fruit closer. The nocturnal sounds of the woods sent chills creeping down your spine. With every crunch of a twig or hoot of an owl, you would whip around, eyes wide and searching. Yet you carried on, determined to find your grandmother’s home.

There is a howl, a noise menacing enough to stand your hair on end. It’s also close. Far too close. You pick up speed, limbs trembling not from the snowy cold, but from sheer fear. The forest noises have silenced, all but the ravenous breathing and rapid footfalls of something chasing you.

A terrified whimper leaves your lips as you take off in a random direction. You’ve barely made it five meters before a menacing, black silhouette glides into your path on all fours, stopping you instantly.

The silhouette stands on hind legs, allowing the full moon to illuminate its face and body. Glaring, red eyes lock in on your form. Before you stands a hulking werewolf. His chest ripples with muscle, along with his arms and thighs. Black wolf ears poke out from bronze hair while a black wolf tail swishes behind him. Fur lines his arms and spine, though his chest and torso are bare. He has the legs of a wolf but the torso and arms of a man. Scars litter the visible skin. You try not to notice how handsome his weathered, haunting face is, despite the chilling red irises.

A low growl emanates from his chest as he bares his fangs threateningly. He steps forward, white flecks of snow getting caught in his hair.