The Werewolf
Wreaked with the scent of a wet dog
the werewolf stretched it's neck and howled
to the bloodred moon
Thick red fluid dripped from his long fingernails
the werewolf vented thick steam from his swollen nostrils
in a forest overloaded with pain and fear
Flexing his muscles he knew he was hunted
as he began to dart, jump and dash through the thickets
burning torches shadowed his path
His razor sharp teeth bit down into the hunters necks
he would rip their bodies to pieces
noone kills the werewolf
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