Wolf-Hunting

Fateful Meeting
Several months before the events of "Predators"...

A particularly harsh winter had ravaged the rural landscape of Germany, blanketing it's vast forests and mountain ranges with a blinding amount of snow and ice. For normal humans, and even for some of the most weathered and seasoned beasts of the realm, such an onslaught of weather would simply be too much to try and survive, forcing many inhabitants of the area to clear out in search of more hospitable grounds.

There was one such individual, however, who would not so readily abandon the place that he called home.

Perched on the edge of a small mountain, overlooking the vast, beautiful landscape was a large white Werewolf. His massive claws dangled by his sides, standing upright and smelling the air attentively. To the gaze of any passerby, he would simply look like a predator searching for his next form of prey, and while this was partly true, he was actually basking in what was perceived to be his kingdom. The cold weather, the black and white forests, the running rivers and streams, and the mighty peaks that dared to scrape the skies created the almost perfect environment for this great beast.

But not all was perfect in his land, for a scent that was both foreign and yet all too familiar found it's way into his nostrils, immediately diverting his attention towards it's origins.

At the end of the woods and in a small clearing was a small log cabin that belonged to his human self. Beyond this small cabin on it's left and right sides were two mountain ranges in which the great peaks seemed to become smaller and smaller as they went on, with the setting orange sun between them in the horizon. Approaching this cabin were the Spiritual signatures of two beings, either two beings or just one, he couldn't tell due to the difference, but regardless of how many there were, he at least knew what they were.

Quincy.

The Werewolf reared back and released a loud, throaty howl that shook the surrounding landscape, causing snow to shake free from tree limb and mountain alike. This howl would be followed by the subsequent howls of several, smaller wolves that were littered throughout the vast forests both behind and around the approaching Quincy.

Lowering itself down on all fours, the Werewolf snarled quietly before it began to quietly and stealthily descend the mountain peak. Tiny and brief fluctuations of Reishi pulsed around the beast momentarily, before his entire form seemed to turn completely invisible, and appear to have completely vanished into thin air.

For those unlucky enough to find themselves on the run from such a beast, they would only hope that that were the case.