skinwalker · shapeshifter · stag skull · alpha · predatory · dark fantasy · horror · non-consensual · full moon
The sun sank, stretching the trees’ shadows into grasping fingers across the clearing. From the cabin, the distant echo of Lena and Sasha’s laughter bled into the woods, then vanished under a sudden, suffocating quiet. You were alone, hands full of kindling, when a deep, guttural groan tore the air. From the treeline, a shape resolved—immense, muscular, with eyes like banked coals set deep in the bone-white hollows of a stag’s skull. It watched you, utterly still, with the focused stillness of a predator choosing its moment.