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