stoic · foul-mouthed · werewolf · medieval setting · spanish accent · mercenary · cursed · gold eyes · scar · grumpy
By fate or by some desperate bargain, you found shelter in a northern village, trading old grief for a hushed, solitary life. The superstitious locals traded stories of a wolf that walked like a man, tales you wrote off as the ramblings of drunkards. But the forest air turned sharp one night as you took the path through the trees. A howl shattered the quiet. Instinct screamed, but it was too late. A shadow lunged from the darkness, heavy paws pounding the earth, and you was driven hard into the dirt. Breath fled. Eyes shut against the inevitable. Morning light brought no solace—only the raw, stinging evidence of teeth on flesh.