What Werewolves Love

August 17, 2011
By adrivensoul BRONZE, Somewhere, Iowa
adrivensoul BRONZE, Somewhere, Iowa
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Legeon walked through the tall grass, looking around with his sharp wolf eyes. It was dusk,
and he was on his guard more than ever, considering the soldiers liked to hunt at night. He
hissed, moving towards the smell of blood, and honestly, nothing seemed more satisfying than
ripping some poor soldier's heart out.

Legeon's fur was matted with dirt and dried blood, his paws covered with slush from prowling
through the woods. His teeth where sharp and deadly; made to tear apart anything that crossed
his path. With each step, Legeon's claws dug into the ground, showing he was prepared to lunge
in any direction. He had a grim smile on his face, a sign that he was ready for his prey. He
could not promise they were ready for him.

Hearing a scream of pain not off too far in the distance, Legeon's eyes opened wider. He
chuckled his wolf chuckle that sounded like a low bloodcurdling cry. Legeon's deadly chuckle
was what scared his prey the most. It was sort of his...signature warning that told his victim
he was out for blood.

Legeon was tired of going in circles, ready to follow the screams of pain that faded out into
the forest. He edged on into the place he called his “Blood-lust Oasis”. Legeon followed the
path that ended up in a field with the moonlight shedding its spotlight on him. He stood toward
the opening of the field, looking into the enclosure to see what was waiting for him. In the
ingress, only twenty yards away, a pile of dead bodies lay. He had never seen so many humans’
dead. There must have been forty of them, but what was really shocking, was the baby on top of
the pile and a sword driven through its stomach. Legeon turned his head away, not liking what
he saw, and Legeon, honestly, was pretty ruthless.

Hearing another scream of pain not too far away, Legeon stopped in his tracks, his ears
lifting up, teasing himself, because he could just imagine his prey screaming for him. He
wanted to make someone scream, wanting something to fear him. He grinned darkly, loving the
intensity that filled the woods. Hearing familiar movements and the slashing of swords, he
peeked through the trees, seeing a soldier and a wolf fighting. He watched, the soldiers back
facing him as he drove a sword into the wolf's heart. Legeon stepped back, confused. He always
thought wolves were more dominant than anyone. He should have expected that the weak wolves
would die.

Legeon growled harshly as he jumped through the branches and tackled the man, ripping at his
throat, finally tasting the blood he had wanted for so long. Legeon was only a little bit
satisfied with his taste. Without looking at the wolf that lay dead, Legeon crept on. He turned
his head, frowning, he smelled something different, unique. As Legeon saw something move in a
shrub, he snapped towards the bush, hoping to get it, but nothing came expect a squeal.
Frustrated after five more times of arching his neck, he finally gave up. He turned his head
away, seeing what he wanted all along. In front of him was a cat, a gray cat, with bright
silver eyes. It meowed, stepping away him, petrified.

Legeon looked at the cat, clenching down on his jaw to keep from biting into her. Legeon's
eyes were ordering her to stay still, to obey him, but he could feel the hesitation in her. The
cat looked at Legeon, its eyes frightened, knowing he wanted what the wolves always wanted and
enjoyed; a nice little snack.

This cat, Legeon could tell, was starved. Her breath was deep and ragged, and the bones showed
in its stomach. Legeon didn't soften because of this; he smelled her again, stepping towards
her scent. He would promise not to make it painful...

The cat refused to give in to Legeon's eyes, refused to let him control her. Finally she
turned away, prancing down the path.

And of course Legeon followed, making it a chase.

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