Snippet #1920098

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.