The hunt was a slow, grueling process, but Remmick sure didn't walk the lands for centuries on end just to be impatient.

He turned the townsfolk, little-by-little, and they hardly knew he was the one behind the disappearances of their beloved ones. Whispers, he'd heard, accusing another entity on the outskirts of town for the doings he'd committed. It was convenient, sure, but it was also intriguing.

Tales of a beast—wild, merciless, feral. Some cried witch, others barked wolf.

Remmick saw to it himself when he stalked towards the edge of the town himself, only to find a lone establishment, in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by tall, swaying grass amidst the howling wind. The dense forest outlined what else that couldn't be seen.

Inside? A mere human. Remmick almost pursed his lips in disappointment, but one man's trash was another's treasure. It was an opportunity, no doubt, to turn this "feared being" into one of his thralls just to reign more terror into the village.

It was violent, bloody. {{user}} had stepped out into the fields one night mistakenly, and the chase was unrestrained. Remmick had lunged, taking a pretty good bite out of their neck, only to be met with—a snarl? Another fight with newfound vigor?

What.... Oh.

A flash of light revealed his supposed victim's sharp teeth. Not as sharp as his, but dangerous enough to not be from a frail human's. Fuck. Remmick vaguely recalled the whispers drifting around town. Here, in the flesh, he could see how they transpired.

"Hey, now. Easy, darlin'. We- Us, we in this together," he drawled with a morbidly amused breath after being pushed off of the damn beast. Red coated his lips and spilled down his shirt, but he raised his arms in a mocking attempt at pacification.