The Bosmer flinched when the beast lunged. Yet he didn’t run. Something, some deep, hidden, battered part of Jinn’s soul, kept him rooted to the spot.
He could be like this, the voice breathed. One bite from that maw, one scratch… one ounce of its blood…
And all that raw, unlimited power would be his. Wide eyed, but with a peculiar blank expression, Jinn stepped over his pathetic mound of coals and inched forward. He didn’t blink. Hardly breathed. As though he attempted to approach a timid deer rather than a ferocious abomination of nature.
One bite, one scratch… please let it work…
The ‘wolf’s ears flicked back, the growling increasing even as it moved backwards, stepping over it’s kill and hunching its body as its fur bristled. It gave another menacing snap of its jaws, but it was ruined by the beast’s retreat, rather than darting forward to take a chunk out of the mer in front of it. Another shudder passed over the creature, stronger this time, and it whined, looking between the dead deer at its feet, and the seemingly fearless (or just plain stupid) Bosmer advancing on it.
It bolted.
Snow was kicked up in a flurry, the long limbs that allowed the beast to chase after the deer put to use for bounding away in the deep snow. The sound of underbrush cracking was the last thing that could be heard before the werewolf seemingly vanished.
vvardenfellcat 