they run either way away from me,
from what I may say
harming them phisically not,
but crushed their spirits underfoot,
or so say the daemons inside me.
She had only wanted the passion to be renewed, and since he wouldnt, she would have to find someone else. He knew he was wrong to hit her, but he could never have killed her, no matter how angry he was. She was his wife, he couldnt have.
He wandered the streets and countryside, running from the authorities, determined to one day find the killer of his wife and destroy him as well. He would sleep during the day and travel at night, where it was harder to be seen, and when he needed, he would be a wolf, running, flowing along the hills and plains like the wind itself, to where was unknown.
But soon he started having the nightmares, and after years of running and searching, he was still empty-handed. Could all of this itself be some horrible dream? He would see images in his head, his own black paws covered in blood, his body shuddering with howling sobbs to the moon. What could all of it mean?
He saw her, his wife Rachelle, it had to be. Stopping near a home he was in dire need of water and food, so he would ask the woman living there for such, how could it be that this was her? He was overwhelmed when he saw her, ready to apologise for being such a terrible husband and for hurting her, but when he blinked and looked again, it wasnt her.. it couldnt be. The more he looked, the less he recognised.
The woman, this Moonfolly, welcomed him into her house, gave him food and drink, and even a place to rest. But then he saw her again. Perhaps the years had just aged her, after all, the resemblance was uncanny. He would kiss her goodnight... yes, like he always used to before the incident.
But it wasnt her. This woman stole her away yet again, took her from him when all he wanted to do was say he was sorry. It was Moonfolly who took her away time after time, and so she would pay!
He nearly killed her that night, but through the bloody tangles of her long brown hair, Aangste saw, once again, that this was Rachelle, it had to be. What could he have done, harming her this way? He brought her back to the home, she did not recognise him, nor know him, perhaps it best stay that way? He would set her on the table and leave, but no longer was he hunting for the killer, no, he would find Moonfolly, and he would kill her.
Moonfolly still lives in that house, and she is constantly attacked by Aangste. His wife is dead, just as always, but his own psychopathic mind lead him to believe that Moonfolly, through resemblance, was Rachelle. Aangste has nearly killed her again, many times, and though his was insane then..
When he found out it was indeed he who killed his wife, finding her in bed with a lover, finding her being unfaithful and killing her in a spit of rage, his mind snapped, and now he is constantly killing and attacking, his twisted mind wanting to taste the warmth of blood, just the same as the wretch's he was married to long ago.
Age: 36
Height: 8'6" (werewolf) 6'2" (human)
Weight: 400lbs approx (werewolf)
Eyes: light grey
Hair: Charcoal Black
Race: Werewolf (Tribal) - Dire Pack
Clothes: When in human form he wears normal tanned pants and shirt.
Distinguishing marks: None