wrote the book on pain,
and somehow I'm still here to explain,
that the darkest hour never comes in the night,
you can sleep with a god, but when are you gonna wake up and fight?</i>
Isen's eyes steadied as she hunted her prey, her ears perked up to attention. She listened as she heard mice scuttle around the forest floor. She'd need something bigger then that. Voles made loud noises, the: Thud, thud, thud of they're footsteps heard for a while around. Her eyes closing in on they're source. She'd never been the best at hunting, but she'd survived two years without her parents. Without a pack so she couldn't have been all that bad. She went into her hunters crouch, her tail levitating behind her, no higher then her spine. Her eyes keened in, her pawsteps light as she approached her target. As a lone wolf, food was between life and death, this she knew.
A sudden distraction from her prey made her leap. The rabbit ran away from her and she cursed. A voice, hunting her down. she listened to it's words. You'll never find her, she's no where near here. But death will come, and collect you. Death created the sound of madness. He wrote the book on pain, you won't be here to explain that the darkest hour won't come in the night. Now Fight. The voice whispered in her ear, her eyes wide. Was she going insane? Probably, but she got into a highly agitated stance. Ready to fight the voice. "Come out! Come fight me you coward!" She screamed, she was scared out of her wits.