InsaneJournal

It had literally been well over a couple of centuries since Dyson had found himself at the mercy of his wolf. As a boy he had learned control long before he'd learned much of anything else and, due to the training from his clan, typically did not have the sort of 'accidents' that others in this city seemed capable of having. He wasn't bound by the moon, he wasn't driven to transform, he didn't feel the bloodlust that typically came with his condition. However for some reason this month had been different. And although even when transformed Dyson tended to maintain some semblance of control, that was not the case this time. He was trapped, both in his wolf form as well as within the feral mind of the beast he had become. All common sense and logic had evaporated until the only thing left in its place was a creature hell-bent on killing anything that garnered its attention.

When this was all said and done, it was pretty much a given that Dyson was probably going to re-define what it meant to feel guilty about something far beyond his control. However for the time being, for this night - as well as the night before it - Dyson was not in control of his mental facilities and the beast in his place frankly could care less about things like self-control and guilt. No, the wolf wanted one thing and one thing only. Blood. And it was not stopping until it had gotten its fair share, either.

So he had taken to wandering the streets. The surroundings woods currently belonged to his brethren. Sure, some part of him knew that he could probably take them in a fight and ensure his dominance over them. And maybe he would, eventually. But for now, he was content to making use of the city streets, finding nothing wrong with the loud sounds the human inventions made or the shrieks from those who happened to spot him when he ventured too far from the shadows. He had grown up hunting amongst humans, having to know how to do so lest the situation ever arise, and therefore their world didn't frighten him in a feral mindset much as he was now as it would have at any other time either.

In fact, in a way, he found it almost easier to hunt in these areas. People never expected an attack when wandering the streets and, sure enough, the... whatever it was (not human, he could tell that much at least) certainly seemed to be no exception. But rather than keep to the shadows until the precise moment to strike, Dyson decided he wanted to have a little bit of fun with this one. So after the 'hello' that sounded through the alley, he emerged. His snout was curled upward as he growled low in his chest, pausing a few steps out of the shadows to lock sights with his target.

Food, his mind whispered to him. Even more importantly than that, however, it was a challenge as well. With another growl for good measure, the gray-and-white wolf that was much bigger than any average one should ever become slowly began to creep forward.

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If the wolf were capable of smiling he would have done so the moment his prey began to move faster. The thrill of the hunt was almost as much fun as the kill itself, after all, and while it hadn't become a full-blown run this was certainly better than something simply standing there while it was being attacked. His movements were very nearly silent as he made his way out of the alley. The streetlight shining down caused him no concern, nor did the distant honking of a horn a few streets away. The sounds of the city, while certainly not overly pleasant, were easily ignored in lieu of the prize within his sights.

With another growl, this one much louder than the one prior, he started at what might almost pass for a nearly casual canter directly in Ruby's wake.

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