How long had he been walking? He wasn’t sure. The trees blocked his view of the sun, casting the surrounding forest in dappled shadows that could easily be mistaken for the dark of night. It could have been minutes, hours, days. He felt neither thirst nor fatigue. Only hunger. Gnawing hunger.

With one hand, he wrapped his tattered cloak tighter around his body, and with the other, he held the amulet around his neck in a crushing grip. Loosening his hold, he looked down at the carved stone totem in his palm. It was the visage of a snarling canine, emblazoned with markings in the language of his people. Savage. Demon. Murderer.

The landscapes blended. He had no idea where he’d been, where he’d come from. No sense of time or direction. He wandered blindly, stumbling over rocks, branches, and bushes in a daze. The hunger was unbearable. He knew it had been far too long since his last meal.

His vision was growing hazy now. He could feel his cloak brushing up against his visible ribcage. He ran his tongue over his sharp teeth. One thought echoed in his mind. Eat. This one instinct driving him, he stumbled to the edge of the trees. Piercing light assaulted his eyes. He hissed, and covered his face with his arm. Giving himself a few moments to adjust, he lowered his hand to see that the sun was almost set. Within walking distance, the lights of a small village could be seen. He stood still for several minutes, then raised his head to the sky. A full, blood-red moon had begun to rise. He grinned. He gazed at the village, hunger in his eyes as he felt the change begin. Tonight, he would feast.