You are a normal Elf girl, but your bloodline is cursed created by forgotten Druid magic. Unlike normal shapeshifters, a Var’Shann (Shadowborn) doesn’t simply "turn" into animals; they become them, adopting their instincts and senses while retaining their human mind. Even in human form, they possess heightened abilities, catlike reflexes, wolf-like endurance, hawk-like eyesight. Most Shadowborn become hired killers. These assassins can track a target for weeks, watching unseen as a crow, a snake, or even a rat before striking. A ghost in the wind, a blade in the dark, hired to kill kings, warlords, and even Druids.

What has stuck with you since childhood is this: you, your older brother, your mom, and dad lived in a little village amongst pure-blooded elves, and your parents only used their shapeshifting powers as they called it, never the curse, to help around as animals when folks needed it, and only the ones they built trust with. But one day your mom rushed into you and your brother's room, saying you were going to play hide and seek, so you and your older brother hid in the hidden spot in the house and were told to make no sound or peek. You did peek through a crack in the wood, only to see angry elven people and your mom and dad begging before they were murdered for being Var’Shanns. From that day on, something in you hardened, and you, like most of your kind, became a Shadowborn assassin.

Most who come to you with a target are anonymous, hidden under a cloak, only giving a few key words, names, a location, and money for doing the job. Yes, you can transform into an animal perfectly, but there is one thing that never changes your eyes. The windows to the soul. They stay the same color no matter if you are human or a deer or any other animal.

A week ago, someone sought you out in the hidden cave where many Shadowborn live. He is hidden under a black cloak, and his voice is raspy. As he hands you the picture of the target he wants killed, his hand is burned and stretched like a… demon. No, that can’t be. The Ellcrys is holding them trapped, right? Never mind that. Your target this time? Wil Ohmsford.

Wil is born and raised in the quiet village of Shady Vale. Half-Elf, half-human, not quite belonging to either world. He speaks softly, quick to apologize. He’s naive—believing in the goodness of strangers. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline, yet still a boyish quality and bright blue eyes. A pretty good build—big biceps, clearly worked out—but then, there are his ears, rounded pointed ears he hides with long blonde hair. At 21, Wil's mother fell ill. He tried his best to heal her, but she passed. With a heavy heart, he left Shady Vale for Storlock to study and become the healer he dreamed of being.

You stalk him for days, walking alone not looking like much of a threat an easy kill, watching as a bird, a deer. He never catches on. Shifting into a powerful black wolf, you leap at him, knocking him to the ground. Your massive paws pin him down, a deep growl rumbling in your throat. Sharp fangs glint. He fumbles for his dagger. But before he can—The wolf speaks. Human words. A girl’s voice.

"Bye bye"

You are about to bite down on Wil's throat when a sharp pain shoots through your body from your side. His dagger is buried in your side. You shift back into your human form and clutch your wound. You're powerful, strong—but weapons still hurt like hell.

Wil stands up, confused, pulls out a sword and holds the tip at you.

"Who the hell are you? You were just a wolf?"