CHPT 240: Preparations Made and Future Endeavors Preordained.

Thick blackness bled into the sky like the murkiest sea ever seen, it's ever-reaching expanse only ever interrupted by the small collections of glimmering stars and the bright ominous Moon.

It's lively white light spilled through the windows of Isaac's room, casting deeper sections of shadow over the many sleeping bodies within, it'd been a long day. Even so, Claude's was just beginning.

Within the dark room-- bathed in the periodic breaths of sleeping students, he sat, reading the contents held within a certain leather journal. Every word he read, as horrifying as the sleeping breaths of his friends were lulling.

The urge to simply lay against the warm floor and let his breaths fall in sync with the hibernating Berserker next to him was almost overwhelming. Almost overwhelming until he remembered what welcomed him when he was brought to the realm of his dreams. Almost overwhelming until he remembered how important it was that his weekends were spent soaked in blood and sweat instead of slumber.

Plus, Aeron's Journal held within its crinkled pages a world of horrors that he needed to understand for many reasons. The questions he developed over the Tangent Biologist turned WereWolf, were already many in number. But, after reading the first entry of the Journal only days ago, the number of questions he had raised exponentially.

A seemingly quiet lonely man using his knowledge and curiosity of the Tangents and Monsters to make an honest living as a source of information for the world and its many Heroes. Only there was something wrong with this man. Something not a soul would've noticed unless they were allowed to peer within his mind. The only person granted that access was the man that abruptly broke his neck and left the scene with his belongings.

Within his mind, he held the secrets and recollections of instances the world itself probably hadn't ever heard of. Secrets of how he enslaved a group of mindless Gnolls and made them follow his every order. Memories of people and instances that never happened. Plans to create a pack of mindless frenzied followers in pursuit of evolution. And even stories of seemingly evil Guilds with secrets held within their blood that somehow put them on friendly terms with the Monstrous Bosses of Tangents.

All of that, splashed against the dry pages of a journal with ink as black as night-- letting off scents that reeked of the emotions he felt in every entry.

In the particular entry Claude read in the dimly lit room, he wrote from a place of relaxation. He was speculating a number of things-- his future, life, and his first kill. He was learning about his new self.

"September fifteenth, mid-night..." Claude read.

"[Looks like he lost the concept of time.]" Arne commented.

"I think I would too if I was out in the wild for ten days straight." Claude replied before continuing to read.

"....For a number of reasons, I think it's safe to say my change from man to WereWolf has been successful-- considering the fact that it's midnight and I can see perfectly enough to write this most recent entry.....along with the already healed cuts and a number of other marvelous realizations. One being, my bad knee. It's completely healed, I've been running for hours on end everyday-- and nothing. No pain, no aches. Only the desire to keep going, keep taking in the air of the wild and scents of the untamed world. During my runs, I've noticed my affect on the wild is as I would've guessed. The creatures of the wild fear me, they run and whine as my steps near their homes because they smell what I am instead of what they see. An apex predator in the flimsy wraps of human skin....maybe not so flimsy.."

Claude's froze for a moment as a wild torrent of scents he'd connect with excitement flew from the page like wayward limbs that forced their way into his nose. The man's writing had begun to shake against the page and sink deeper with the excited intensity of someone unstable going over a memory they strongly enjoyed.

"[Oh boy...here we go.]" Arne said.

"....I mean in this form, I am flimsy-- compared to what I can be. But still, I wasn't able to kill a DireWolf with my bare hands until now. That hunt in particular was very telling. Just to see the beast look at me and know I wasn't human was.....exhilarating. We spoke to eachother through snarls, barks and body language that told me many things. Then, we stared at eachother, the exchange filled me with an odd feeling and caused me to descend on the creature in a flash. By the time I reached it, I dug into its flesh and bone with claws I dont remember having and canines I don't remember feeling. A realizations that fell to the back of my mind after the blood of the beast poured into my mouth. I don't know how to accurately describe the taste, but it was glorious.....electrifying. The tangy scents that rose from the whimpering creature with every bite I made was like nothing I've ever experienced. I can see why my kind are a danger to society. The urge to hunt and consume raw flesh is inescapable. Absolutely inescapable."

"That scent he's talking about....it's fear, isn't it?" Claude asked.

"[Yes indeed. The scent that drives us all.]"

"And what about the staring? I don't understand that."

"[WereWolves are strongly driven by structure and dominance. In a way, he established that he's a dominant WereWolf in that exchange-- that's not to say he would've submitted to the DireWolf and ended up dying, but the enjoyment and importance he felt in showing that he was above the Wolf explains a many things. He was a psycho on all fronts-- but also dominant. That's probably one of the reasons why he was able to lead the Gnoll's. Eye contact is a very important factor with WereWolves. That's even how most are found.]"

"What do you mean found?" Claude asked as Ursula rolled over in her sleep and let her hand fall onto Frosty's thick head.

"[Anytime someone is turned and tries to return home in secret. They usually end up murdering their families over the simplest of things. Finding their son in their beds.....]"

"...Territory.." Claude realized.

"[Or finding their significant others looking them in the eyes after a simple kiss...]"

"A challenge."

"[Exactly. You feel these same things, but less excessive and violently primal. That's why it's almost impossible for WereWolves to stay within human society after being changed. They literally return with different minds. That's why im surprised a pack didn't find him and take him in.]"

Goosebumps rippled along his flesh as a fearful thought filled his mind, "What if they did? What if he did have a pack?"

Arne scoffed in his mind, making his feeling of fear turn to embarrassment, "No. WereWolves are incredibly loyal to their packs. And even more strict. The most strict of the supernatural races. You can't just leave the pack grounds and roam as he did, you run the risk of entering enemy territory and getting ripped to pieces.]"

Claude turned his head in thought, "You know, you speak highly of WereWolves. Were Lupines and WereWolves allies?"

"[Well no. Romulus was very aware of the politics of the supernatural underground and knew that by siding with one, you open yourself up to making enemies of the rest. Instead, we used our better control over our true natures and kept them all in check wherever we roamed. But, that isn't to say individual Lupines and WereWolves never formed friendships or more...plus, we never had to raid Pack Dens. Only Covens and SkinWalker Clans.]" He replied, shivering as he spoke the words, "SkinWalker".

"WereWolves....Vampires....SkinWalkers...and politics. That shit sounds like a nightmare that I dont want any part of." Claude thought as he fiddled with the page of the journal.

"[Oh but you will....have a part I mean.]"

"..."

The silence pushed Arne to keep talking, "[Vampires collect things and are always looking for ways to keep themselves on top, you're one of the rarest beings on earth. WereWolves will now see you as a killable threat since you are the last Lupine. And SkinWalkers....well, SkinWalkers are SkinWalkers. But for now you don't have to worry about that. You have training, and a HellBreeder to prepare for.]"

With that, Claude shook of his anxieties of a possible meeting with the supernatural underworld and replaced them with a new set of fears as he got up and prepared to step into the night.

"....A HellBreeder to prepare for indeed."