Deep within the East Forest would there be a grove of trees that shielded those below from the hot rays of sunshine, yet patches of grass glistened with crimson. Splotches of blood splattered across the greenery and the bark of trees like a horror scene in some questionable movie. Deep within this darkness lied a body, with a chest torn open and an abdomen peeled away as if something had crawled out of the corpse. The pearly white bones that stuck out from the body had been scattered across the earth like some hyena's leftovers, and only the face of the victim was recognizable. Perhaps no one would miss the messy-haired, cheeky Ezra Aurence, but for many of his companions, he was merely out on a walk.
Although the scene would've been horrific and nauseating to most, one creature would linger about the body idly. It was perhaps the size of an infant bonobo and was covered in a thick layer of silver fur, glistening in the slivers of sunlight and blood that covered it. It's face reflected that of a wolf with small, beady eyes, and a wet, black nose. It sat on its rear with a clump of tissue and bone in its paws, desperately trying to consume it with its toothless gums and sharp talons. To the sane eye, most would reckon it was a baby werewolf!
Quietly, the small creature struggled to eat what it could shred and cried a defeaning cry when it failed. When its blackish-pink gums couldn't gnaw the parts away, a boiling sensation overcame him and would beat the ground senselessly, tearing at the earth and snarling into the nothing. What was the small thing to do when there was no more meat to consume? Instead, it cried and snarled its hours away, crawling about on its strange appendages, and even attempting to climb trees. All to pass time and greet for what he knew as death.