It was a crisp winter night and the moon was gloriously full. Its silver rays lit up the dark forest. The forest was covered in a snowy blanket and there was no way you could tell that there was something out there. The wolfs fur was nearly undistinguishable to the whiteness that it stalked in and it's golden brown eyes and nose were able to fool the unsuspecting that there lay just brown twigs and rocks. The wolf was lying low, hardly breathing as it stalked its prey. The poor rabbit was peacefully munching on some grass it had uncovered. The eyes flashed with hunger and in a matter of no time it had lunged forward catching the rabbit between it's razor sharp teeth killing it instantly. The bright red blood was striking against the whiteness. The white wolf munched contentedly on the rabbit until it had left just the bloody bones. Satisfied the wolf trotted back to its home leaving red paw prints and its bloody mouth dripping.

A small cabin hidden amongst the thickest of trees welcomed home the wolf. With bloody paws the wolf scratched at the door pushing it open. Once inside the wolf was greeted by warmth and aromatic smells from brews cooking in the heavy stone pot. Nudging the door closed the wolf shook itself and advanced to the small area blocked off by the curtain. The wolf began to violently shake, bones breaking and reforming, muscles stretching and hair malting. From the shift stood a beautiful young women, wavy platinum hair tumbling down her back. She redressed into a simple grey tunic and stepped from out behind the curtain. Her mouth was still covered in dried blood as were her hands. Going over to a small bucket she washed herself. She bent back up again and delicately wiped herself dry. She breathed in deeply relishing the feeling of her home. Inside there was a small fire place that held a tripod that situated a large stone pot above it; usually filled with odd smelling liquids. Near that was her working table that was strewn with herbs, glass vials, needles, materials, charms and all sorts of bits and bobs. In the centre sat a small round table and a single chair which had piled on top of it sheets and sheets of parchment along with a pot of ink and quill. In the corner covered by a curtain was her sleeping quarters that was simply a mattress piled with blankets and animal pelt. Beside her bed also sat her wardrobe which only contained a few grey dresses and her prized coat- a white fur material lined with down that kept her warm when out searching for plants in the winter. This was her home and despite her madness she cherished everything in the small stone cabin.

To those rare visitors she was the mystic, the shaman who could deal curses and cures. But they were weary because she was unpredictable and ruthless. Cordelia Braxton used to be the town of Azgrowths healer but after an encounter with a werewolf she started dealing in darker methods. Her sole clientèle is now the werewolf community that live in the forest. She has her own agenda but even she has heard about Big Bads new toy. The child from the village - Little Red. She had just been changed when Little Red was only a small child. And now that child is caught up with the Alpha Male. Years ago he used to be her lover but when she changed her mind was warped and they separated. She wasn't cast out from the pack but she chose to be by herself. So the old couple that used to live in the cottage she killed and took over.

Cordelia lost in her memories like she often is just sat and stared out her window watching as snow began to fall. In the distance she could hear the cries of the wolves.

Traveling in the treacherous weather and the snow wasn't the smartest of moves, but since she had been almost all of the way to Azgrowth, Kiana hadn't wanted to stop. The last village she had stayed in had barely given her anything of interest to learn about. Knowledge was power - the power to know things about others and the power to sell the knowledge to those who needed it most. And Azgrowth had caught her attention with the stories of a wolf - or wolves - who, in uncharacteristic displays of violence, attacked humans. That hinted at something, and Kiana had an inkling that that something might be more: werewolves.

The snow fell in a light sprinkle, calmed from its previous storm. It fell over in a new layer over the ground as well as Kiana's clothes and the oiled cover over her lyre. She looked ahead through the darkness of the cloudy night and saw little specks of light spilling out from lamps and candles in the windows of some houses. She was nearly there. Kiana's tired jog received a new burst of energy and she began to run, eager to enter one of the town's pubs or inns and eager to exit the late winter chill.

Her running slowed again as she passed the open gate and the guards. It was early evening, and so most people seemed to have retired to their homes in order to eat supper. The streets were generally empty, much to Kiana's relief. She didn't feel like squeezing through large crowds at this point of the day. Spots of light illuminated the sides of the streets through a few houses' windows as Kiana made her way. The snow crunched underfoot. A breeze blew against her back and she heard a creak up ahead. She looked for the source and saw a large wooden sign hanging over a porch, both were part of a large building. Kiana smiled at the sight. It was definitely a pub. What else would have a sign with a giant, foaming tankard?

Kiana went up the steps and onto the porch. Through the closed doors, she heard voices over the comforting backdrop of clattering cutlery and a fire. Pulling back her hood, Kiana released long black hair and she brushed off the crusted ice from her clothes and instrument. Then, she pushed against the door and opened it, releasing a wave of warmth, chatter, and noise. The pub seemed quite full but Kiana entered anyways, glad to finally be out of the cold.

There were several glances, but most of the chatter continued unabated as Kiana slipped through the tables and people, searching for a free seat. First she would warm up a bit, perhaps with a nice hot bowl of stew. Then she would see if she could talk with some people. If she couldn't get anymore, she would play her music. She would probably find someone with the information she wanted then - or at least someone who knew someone who did. It didn't matter. As long as she had her music and the warmth. She was patient. Information would always come.

Two years since Little Red and Big Bad had taken the grandmother for all the meat and blood she was worth. Only two years. Big Bad couldn't help but feel as though Little Red had always been...different. The new lifestyle suited the young, red cloaked lass, and there was no doubt in Big Bad's mind that she would do well among his kind. Big Bad was a tough, cocksure and quiet hunter of he night, but, as cliche as he knew it sounded, there was soft spot there for the female cannibal known as Little Red. She was pretty, but that was just an exceptional bonus; Little Red was also skilled, clever, talented and many, many other things that he could have listed.

There was not a single noise that passed Big Bad's lips as he witnessed the skillful, but awful slaughter of one rather cocky werewolf, and the separation of vital components in Gust's wrists. Big Bad preferred to sit here, near Little Red, in his powerful, stealthy wolf form. The jet black fur was perfect for lurking in the shadows cast by the trees. At the suggestion of what could turn into a fur fight, Big Bad rose slowly to his feet and walked out of said shadows, standing a short distance away from Little Red and Gust. "And this can stop right now. Little Red, come," he ordered. His voice was deep and slow, with deliberate annunciation of each and every letter. Without waiting for the girl's reply, Big Bad turned and walked slowly away from the mini-carnage, his long, thick tail swaying as he walked.

"Red, I hate to ask this of you, but it seems that you are killing a lot of our kind. I know that they deserve it, hell, most of us deserve to be slaughtered. However, by that means...." he paused and stopped, turning his beady, glowing eyes to look at Little Red, "...so do you."

Briana peeked out from behind her hood, looking up at the towering gates to Azgrowth. She couldn't recall being here in awhile, but the again she didn't remember what she'd had to eat last night. Had she eaten last night? She shook her head and continued walking, hoping to get into the town before nightfall. The only thing that had stuck with her from the town was the whispers of monstrous wolves in the woods. One would certainly not like to be trapped outside around these woods.

It did not amuse her that it was chilly this evening, causing her to shiver and pull her cloak tighter. Perhaps she could 'buy' a fur lined cloak while here. Smiling, she entered the town. The young blonde walked confidently towards the market place, where things were slowly coming to a close. People milled about, carrying sacks of food, jewelry, etc. Briana herself was most interested in these sacks, but it was too soon to make a move. The next town was too far away for her to create a safe escape, let alone arrive there by the time the moon shone bright.

Inhaling softly, she made her way over to a cheap looking stand. It seemed to be a simple bakery stand, with an anorexic looking, grey haired man behind the counter. He growled at her a bit as she examined the food before her. Everything looked delicious to her after a monotonous day of trudging through the snow.

"Well? You gonna buy anything or just keep standing there?" the man asked her, clearly annoyed. Briana ignored him, pulling out a small leather pouch with a few coins in it. She handed them to the man, took a loaf of bread, and left without a word. She got what she came for, and he got what he wanted. For today, they were equal and content. Tomorrow however could be a very different story.

The blonde walked through the town, putting distance between her and the market place. Once she stopped walking, she leaned against a building and tore a piece off of the loaf. She popped the piece into her mouth and chewed on it. Though it wasn't the tastiest thing she'd ever eaten, it was satisfying for the moment.

As she continued to eat, she couldn't help but wonder what had become of the wolves she'd heard so much about the last time around. As a runaway and wandering thief, Briana couldn't afford to stay in one place for too long. Being found by her parents and forced to marry was not on her list of things to do. Then again, her list of things to do was nonexistent at this point in time.

She didn't want to go out and brave the chill of the snow again, but the inn had been too full and Kiana was feeling so sluggish and tired, that she was sure that if she attempted any type of song or attempt at gathering information, let alone sweet-talking her way into getting a room. If she'd try, she'd probably mess up and end up revealing more things than learning.

Kiana stifled a yawn as she paid a few coins for the food. She had managed to get directions to the nearest inn through the simplest tactic of just asking. It was, apparently, close by and so she slipped reluctantly out of the warmth. Kiana pulled up her hood and stepped lightly back into the streets. She made sure her lyre was snug and began walking. It was getting late, but her steps weren't rushed - if she did, she might miss something.

And indeed, as Kiana neared her destination, she caught a glimpse of a figure leaning against a building. Kiana kept her pace measured as her eyes flicked to the other. The person seemed very muted in her black cloak hiding most of her features, but something about her - perhaps the way she held herself - told Kiana that she was something special. A secret, perhaps? Something that asked to be learned of. Kiana nodded to herself mentally. She would definitely look into this...

New in town.

The man entered town, and paused, head cocked slightly- ears straining against the normal night sounds. A glance over his shoulder, a rabbit dashing across the path, nothing more. "Dark days.." he mumbles, hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his main blade- the gladius style blade would seem odd in this region..but so would the man- he hailed from distant shores, the lilt of his voice told enough to mark him foreign. Wrapped in dark leathers, from his deep cowl-like hood to his worn yet comfortable boots, the man blended with the darkness perfectly- the natural veins in the skins used for the leather had been dyed separately, infusing a mottled pattern that broke up the figure's outline when in heavy cover. Over all he was not a large man, only about average height and weight...his eyes however drove away any normalcy about him- yellow, and cat-like, with strange pupils that seemed to shift and change with the light.

Resuming his walk into the town proper, he trudges through the snow without much effort, having walked through the stuff for miles by now. It was cold, and he was wet, the Inn would be his fist stop. From there he would inquire after supplies and see if there was a local blacksmith. He needed a few things worked on, a blade sharpened and would like to see about getting some new arrows. Then he would pass along- these small towns were notorious traps for travelers, lure you in with warm food and beds...then locked you in with a wife and some kids. He understood the need, refreshing the gene pool and all that..but he had a job.

The man was a hunter. A Witcher- slayer of monsters, mutant to some...underpaid pest controller to others. He was a hired blade, selling his services to hunt and kill the things that went bump in the night, and in some cases..he did side work against humans as well- times WERE tight after all, coin was coin. Raised and trained as he was though...humans just were boring to kill. Why he was passing through this area though, no one would know..he had not been hired here or anywhere nearby. It was odd then that someone of his skill-set would be placed in this area..

His eyes settle on a well lit building, marked as the local Inn by the smell of food and the sound of people. With a sigh and a shudder- he could still feel eyes upon him, though that rabbit was long-gone, he sets off towards the building's main door.

It wasn't long before there was a thumping on the door. Cordelia wasn't the least bit surprised. The howling she had heard was one of pain and she knew that it would come to her eventually. She leisurely made her way to the door and by then there was a deep growl that accompanied the pounding.
"SHAMAN! Open up. I need healing!"
She disliked this sort of command over her and it made her reluctant to aid him. But she opened the door anyway and found Gust. Quite a young werewolf and full of fury. Always the looking for a fight and it seems that he got on the wrong end of someone. His face had numerous cuts, he was limping and his hand was a bloody mess. Cordelia simply raised her eyebrows. He was no different from the others. Recently there have been more and more wolves visiting her. All with severe injuries. It was obvious that he had provoked Little Red. The stupid wolf. Cordelia couldn't careless what the other wolves were doing but Little Red was getting more and more vicious and that meant that more wolves were coming and disturbing her. He didn't wait for her to invite him in, not that she would anyway, and went straight to take a seat.
"That bloody Little Red. Who does she think she is? If she wasn't Big Bads Bitch I swear I would have ripped her bloody head apart."
His fury was obvious and he didn't seem to notice that Cordelia wasn't really listening. She heard but she wasn't listening. On her desk she started to grind some herbs to make the salves. He was still complaining and she was amused that his anger was overriding his pain because even though he was a wolf and was stronger he had been cut by wolfs bone and that caused serious agony. She had moved over towards him and with a small cloth started dabbing his face with some of the mixture. It would have stung but he was still too caught up in his hatred. There wasn't much she could do for the leg except mutter a few incantations and sprinkle some of her special salts. Next she moved to check the wrist but it was so bad that it was basically hanging on by a single tendon. She went in search of her little wolf bone dagger to sever the muscle. The idiot Gust was still going on that when Cordelia came back and swiftly severed the wrist he yelped and turned his tirade onto her.
"You stupid witch! What the hell have you done?! You've cut my hand off!"
Cordelia hadn't minded him going off about someone else but he was now threatening her. She didn't like that. No one threatened the White Wolf.
Quick as lightening she lashed out and Gust found a wolf bone knife pressing against his throat. Finally he shut up. With a deep guttural growl she said,
"You better stop your tongue flapping or your wrist might not be the only thing that you will find gone."
Slowly removing the blade she stood up and saw the pathetic wolf gulp before his gaze turn dark.
"Jus' get on with it."
Silence filled the small room and Cordelia continued to spread some of the salve on and wrap it up. Done she looked down at him to assert her dominance.
"You know the deal. I help you, you help me. I need some more herbs that only grow near the edge of the forest near Azgrowth they are a small shrub with rubbery leaves. They have a distinct smell which you won't miss. I need a basketful."
She had turned her back and was about to dismiss him when she thought of something,
"Oh and while you are there try and gather some gossip, I like to know what's happening in the village."
Gust cradled his missing limb before standing and returning to the cold night.

"She's gone," the drunk had repeated, staring at Kiana desperately through red-rimmed eyes. "She went out to get some flowers but she must have gotten lost. And now it's too dark..." He then hesitated; like many in the town, even drunk he was reluctant to speak of the monsters that seemed to stalk the forest. Kiana had gotten all the information she wanted and needed though.

She stood up. "I'll go look for her," she had said, pushing her untouched tankard towards the drunk. Then, leaving him behind, she had headed towards the forest. The girl hadn't been that hard to find - the surroundings were all torn up, bloody, and the girl herself barely recognizable. Kiana stepped lightly through the snow, leaves, trees until she stood by the broken up swirl of blood, flesh, and nature. She quietly listened for a moment and then bent down, inspecting the body and quashing down any disgust. The answer rose at once to her mind as she noted the chewed flesh and claw marks, as well as the trail through the snow on the right, leading away. Werewolf.

She fingered one of her blades thoughtfully. Then, she stood and slipped past the body, towards the tracks. She began to follow them warily, keeping all her senses extended. It was the voice that alerted her to the other's presence first. "Damned shaman-bitch," a low gravelly voice snarled. "Cut off my hand..." He trailed off in a variety of curses. The leaves rustled as Gust reached through the bushes to pull out some herbs roughly and stick them into the basket belonging to a - now dead - villager girl who had been stupid enough to wander the forest and too slow in trying to escape. Gust licked his jaws at the memory of the blood - "Stupid little human had the basket I needed though" - and then continued savagely pulling the herbs, sometimes getting roots, sometimes bits of the leaves.

Kiana did not need to guess that Gust had been the one to kill the girl. She stepped backward, preparing to creep away. Snap! Kiana's eyes widened and she managed to call herself several kinds of stupid as Gust's head shot up and he turned. "Oho! Another stupid little human." He dropped the basket behind him and stepped forward, preparing to transform. Kiana responded quickly as she threw her blade forward at Gust's neck. He moved, and a thin line of blood carved onto his skin, but it was only on his cheek and barely a nuisance to the werewolf.

No silver, no werewolf bone. Kiana thought worriedly as she danced aside from Gust's claws. Her arm suddenly burned and blood blossomed on long, shallow scratches engraved on her skin. And I don't think I can hold him down alone. That means... She had to distract Gust long enough to- Gust gave a bloodthirsty scream as he transformed, muscles and fur exploding into being. The scream became a howl that echoed through the air. There!

Kiana grabbed the moment of distraction and the opportunity the howl gave her to stand still and take a breath. Before the howl petered out and Gust turned his gaze towards her, Kiana hummed. It was a quiet melody at first, but began to swell into a loud wordless song that matched Gust's howl as it undulated and twisted through the melody. If Gust had been completely focused on the battle, Kiana would have had a difficult time either retreating or fighting. But the howl had been enough to distract him and let her match a melody to his cry. And so she let the tune escape her lips, match with the howl and then slowly bring Gust to a stop. Even as the howl faded, Kiana continued.

Gust's eyes were glazed as he stood limply in front of her. His ears twitched, straining to hear every note - lost in the sound. Kiana's voice dropped to a low croon as she stepped forward. One step. Two steps. Gust let her walk straight up to him. Kiana pulled out a longer knife than the one earlier. She casually put it pointing straight at one of Gust's eyes. Her voice trailed to a stop. Gust stood there for several moments longer, pulling free from the spell.

"Now don't attack," Kiana murmured, her blade extremely close to the werewolf's eye. "If you so much as twitch, this will drive into your brain and the world will be free of one more werewolf."

Gust snarled. "What do you want, bitch?"

Kiana smiled, feeling more comfortable as she slipped into the familiar territory of information gathering. "Information. Just a little news."

Gust's eyes narrowed. It sounded so simple. Too simple. "What kind of news?"

"Tell me, who cut off your hand?" Kiana asked idly. Gust's reply was laden with expletives, but Kiana got the general picture of a shaman who stayed in the forest and supposedly was also a werewolf. Kiana noted down the person as a person to look for after the... "enlightening conversation" with Gust. She wasn't asking anything sensitive, so Gust was rather open with his feelings. "I thought a shaman would be healing you, not cutting off hands," Kiana murmured.

"She was supposed to be!" Gusts growled. "My hand was cut by Big Bad's bitch! Little Red!" Kiana's interest was peaked. Little Red? The villagers had mentioned... something. A rumor. Her inquiry was rebuffed however with another wave of curses. "What, you gonna torture me?" Gust howled.

"No. I'm sure I can get all the information I need from the villagers and I'm sure the shaman might be more open to inquiry." Kiana smiled at Gust's sudden fearful eyes. "I don't think I need you anymore!"

"No wait! I'll tell you! Big Bad adopted Little Red and she killed and ate humans! She has a sister-" Kiana cut off his voice by stabbing the knife deep into the eye.

"A sister, huh? I'm sure I can figure who it is soon enough." Kiana moved towards the basket of herbs and picked it up. She sifted through it, picking out the badly damaged ones and then picked up more. "I'm sure the shaman would appreciate some of these..."

It had been but three hours since that arrogant wolf gust had left. The snow had stopped falling but the wind had picked up. She doubted that he would be back for the night and would probably return early morning if at all with her herbs. His arrogance and just plain idiocy is going to get him killed because Cordelia doesn't appreciate it when you disobey her.

It is not very known, not even within the wolf community, but her little charms are not the only thing she crafts. Using the bones of children, as they are most potent, she carves symbols and sculpts them into different shapes. They create disfigured objects that she uses for death curses. As soon as Gust had left she went outside to the back of her house and entered her secret cellar. It isn't large but its able to hold at least 6 people. At this point in time she had run out of her little ossa's and needed fresh bones.

As she opened the cellar door the wind picked up causing snow to flurry around her and sweep her coat up. Her hair that looked ghostly white in the light was swirling around and as the wind whistled through to the ones inside she probably looked like a banshee. Inside each in their own little cage sat 4 scruffy, shivering children. They had been the kids of a travelling merchant passing through. Because they had camped on the outskirts of the village she was given the chance to one by one steal the children. It caused distress among the party and they went to the villagers demanding to know who or what stole their children. Of course the villagers were too terrified to do anything but the merchant was beginning to go mad so went out by himself in search of them. In the end he met his demise at the jaws of another wolf.

These children had only their thin dresses, tattered coats and some old boots on. They were freezing but not enough so that they would die. No Cordelia needed her bones fresh and from one forearm bone she could carve four ossa's. As she descended the stairs the three girls and their young brother started to whimper. They each scurried to the back of their cages and held the other tight through the bars of their cage. Cordelia would never allow them to soil this place so a little pot was placed in each cell which she regularly disposed of. To Cordelia, being slightly insane, this was only natural and felt no disgust towards them when emptying the pots. Although it wasn't through kindness that she did anything for them. She would give them a fresh loaf to share each day to keep them alive. She took the small key from around her wrist and unlocked the cage that held the oldest child. The girl started babbling incoherently, her voice slowly rising in crescendo as she began to get more hysteric as Cordelia progressively unlocked the door and made her way inside. She held a basket with some items inside in the right hand and a glinting steel knife in the other. She placed down the basket and and knelt down. She waved the child over, of course the thing was terrified and shook her head vigorously.

"No!" she screamed in a nordic accent, "You are going to kill me! Take us home. I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Cordelia frowned. The child had no home to go to. How can she go home? Besides, Cordelia needed their bones. In a stern voice she told the child to come to her.

"You have no home to go to. I need you. Come here and it won't be painful. Disobey me and you will find yourself in unimaginable pain."

It wasn't the voice of someone cruel, just matter-of-fact. The child didn't know what to do so she pulled herself into the cradle position and cried into her knees. Still frowning Cordelia grabbed the child's arm and pulled her into her lap. At first she struggled but Cordelia's warm hands soothed her and she was crying into her dress. Taking a herb from the basket she lacquered it along the blade above the child's head. The child seemed to have given up, resigning herself to her fate. Gently she extended the child's arm out and laid it on the cold stone floor. She placed her free hand firmly on the child's arm to restrict her movement. Without even pausing she pressed the knife down at the elbow joint and severed the arm. The child screamed and convulsed but the herb quickly did it's job and numbed her body. She stopped thrashing and just lay there loudly sobbing. Swiftly he grabbed the bandages out of her basket along with some other leaves. She placed them firmly on the knob to stop the bleeding and deftly bandaged the wound. Blood had seeped onto the floor and was still flowing from the cut off limb. Taking a large folded sheet from the basket Cordelia placed it over the bloody spot and using a corner dabbed the severed end of the limb. She placed it into her basket and carefully removed the girls head from her lap. She would leave the sheet their as a reward for the girl for her limb. The others were in silence, trembling in the corners farthest away from her. They didn't dare speak. Cordelia stood up and exited the small cage and relocked it behind her. She had become so skilled at her task that she didn't even get a spot of blood on her clothes. Her hands were another story but that was unavoidable. She returned to the warmth of her cabin and went to work at creating the first ossa. She removed the hand first and placed it in a jar for another time, then she skinned the arm and went about cleaning it up. It wasn't long before all she had was the forearm, a clean white bone.

One fully complete ossa lay on her crafting table next to rest of the bone. Cordelia was standing over her cooking pot brewing a small meal with some of the flesh from the child's arm. She wasn't one for wastefulness. She spooned a bit of the broth into a small wooden bowl and sat down to her meal. Cordelia was a woman that because of her madness just did a job. She liked and disliked things but felt no emotion of an action completed. Her mind and emotions were things that she could control. Although lately the only emotion she had felt was irritation. And now with Gust still not returning she had started to fiddle with one of the ossa's. As she finished up her meal she had taken the steel knife from before and had the tip pressed gently into one of the symbols. She didn't know what she was going to do but it didn't take a psychic to figure out what would happen to Gust.

All of a sudden the knife was plunged straight into the ossa and Cordelia knew that Gust was dead. While she is carving the symbols she is in a state where she can't comprehend what she is doing. Once something has occurred to the ossa she is able to then read the symbols and determine what happened. As she was reading she raised an eyebrow. The one who killed Gust was coming here. The fool. They killed him with a steel knife, only achievable through a stab to the head. As she twisted the deformed bone she saw another symbol that represented voice and realised how the hunter managed to kill Gust. This person was a siren and if she was coming here Cordelia needed to know that she wouldn't be seduced. Rising from her chair she went to prepare herself for her guest. She grabbed the purple Isila flower and crushed it, she applied some rosemary and crushed some bamboo. She acquired the bamboo from one of her rare travels. She was gone for three months and it was very difficult to get a hold of this powerful plant in which she uses it sparingly. Finally she was left with a messy pulp. The last step was taking a red velvet pouch and placing the mixture in with a touch of sea salt. Complete she took the pouch and hung it from her neck with woven hair of some of the wolves that had died.

Now she was protected and she didn't have to wait long before she smelt the newcomer. It was female. This would be interesting