The Tangle You're dead, Gwen Stacy

@Gwen

This place was dangerous. He knew it the moment he saw it, and yet he walked in anyway. Foolish, but the strigoi always walked with death on his side. It was his curse, his blessing, which he had borne on his body since he was born; something as dark as the stripe that ran 'cross his body.

He threaded lightly over the tossed stones like dice on the roulette board, an angel in movement, a devil in thought.

Gwen knew she shouldn't be so far away from her pack. It was dangerous, she didn't know the area. Yet still her curiousity got the best of her. She glanced around her with an impressed smile. This was a pretty place, though the winter chill had left snow lying everywhere on the frozen ground. She loved snow. Snow had always been something that fascinated her. Whether it was the way it seemed to swallow the ground whole, or the way it formed tiny frost crystals, she didn't know. But either way it was greatly admired by the she-wolf.

She walked, engrossed in her thoughts, not noticing anyone around her.

He stopped as she entered his gaze. He did not hunger as fiercely as he had with the boy, but he would not pass up easy prey. The strigoi looked about them, ears pricked for any other noise besides the snow crunching beneath her paws. Nothing. His gaze returned to her frame, waiting for her to pass him before he began trailing her, eyes burning with dark intent.

Gwen continued to wander around, unknowingly walking past the wolf I'm the shadows. She did, however, hear a small noise and was instantly wary. She perked up her ears to listen and her eyes swept over the land to spot anything. She didn't see anything, but she decided it might be safer to pick up the pace a but.

She was pale; perhaps an arctic wolf, as his mother was. That paused him, that connection. He cursed himself for the sudden lapse of weakness, composed himself to speak to her first, see if she brought any more thoughts of love and hope to him, then if she did not, see her white pelt turn red.

Domnișoară, He called to her, closing the distance between them, You are familiar with these lands?

She froze as she heard a voice calling to her. Swiftly, she turned to face the wolf and gazed at him in confusion, her blue eyes round and curious. She had no idea what his first word to her had meant but he asked a question and she would answer as she would to any stranger. Polite but cautious. "I'm afraid I'm not as familiar with these lands as I'd perhaps like to be, but it reminds me of a place in my homeland."

He watched her movements, her reactions to his question. She did not speak the vampiric tongue, nor did she make any semblance of recognition. She did not know what he was. For now. 

You are from the north then? Of course, I should have assumed that. Most arctic wolves were; he had yet to meet a fullblooded arctic wolf who had not been born in the cold tundras. I am largely unfamiliar with this land; I just arrived. 'Tis a terrible time to be so naïve and unprotected, The cold was biting, driven by the wind to pierce through the fur into the bones. He was lucky he shared some arctic blood to thicken his coat. But you are from a pack...?

She followed his gaze and continued to cautiously look at him. "Yes, I am...." the white female said, with a curious look on her face. Something about this wolf reminded her of something, though she couldn't put a paw on it. Perhaps it was that he looked somewhat similar to her ex-mate. She flinched at this thought, and it was clearly visible on her face.

"What do you mean by that? And yes..... I am from Marauder's Keep." She spoke with a thoughtful look planted in her eyes. She wanted to know what exactly was going on here; who would say something like that? Did she need to be protected? She almost questioned him but thought better. Perhaps he would answer with his next statements. The wolfess felt a chill through her fur as a thought poked at her. She didn't understand it though. What was her brain trying to tell her now?

She was uncomfortable. He wanted to smile then. it was a familiar thing, seeing them, his , know in their hearts that something is wrong with him. His intentions, his habits, his smile, his words. They, in their heart of hearts, knew he was dangerous, and yet they did nothing. It was foolish to not rely on your instincts, especially when meeting a stranger.

The lone wolf dies, the pack survives. 'Tis the main struggle of winter, He shrugged, hinting again and again that she should leave, run, I will hurt you. But truly, he wanted her to run so he could chase her. Is that close?

Gwen began to back away. "What..... what do you mean by that?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Look, I'm not looking for any trouble, if that's what you want." Her heart was already beginning to beat faster, but she held her ground, only backing away slightly, preparing to run if he decided to attack. This encounter was already confusing and worrying her. Something about this wolf was.... familliar, yet wrong. Very wrong. But again, she could not remember where she recognised this sort of 'behaviour' from.

Her heart started quickening, to his delight. She was realizing now. Good. He hated ignorant prey, though they were often the easiest kills. No, he knew himself to be a finer hunter than that. The strigoi chuckled, darkly, stepping forward. Trouble? No, I do not wish to cause much trouble, Understatement of the century, he laughed internally. I am simply a hungry man, that's all, He took another step, then another, ready to pounce if she fled. He waited for the telltale twitch in her muscles that would send him flying towards her, towards that pale throat. No, there was no empathy for her. She did not spark that recognition in him, that would still him completely, stave off his hunger.

Gwen's eyes only continued to narrow and her hackles began to rise. "Much? Much trouble?" She let out a small growl and muttered "You......." she began, the memory previously poking at her now was closer, so close she felt like she could reach out and grab it, yet it was just out of her reach. It was the only thing keeping her in the presence of this strangely intimidating wolf. The white female still backed away and prepared to fight or flee, depending on this wolf's next move.

She moved and moved, back back back, in a desperate attempt to get away from him. He smiles at the attempt, the constant backpedaling. She was realizing it now, far too late. 

Athan lunges forward, his fangs aimed at her throat, intent on tearing into her flesh and spilling red hot fluid onto her pale snow fur.

Gwen snarled at his lunge, but she was knocked to the ground. His fangs were dangerously close to her throat, so she attempted to push him off of her with hind legs. In between breaths she yelled with fury "YOU! You.... You're one of them, aren't you?" Storm had been one of them. The wolves that were like vampires. Gwen, had never been so angry before. It was Storm, the 'devil' in her mind, driving her to do this. It was only when these two wolves were struggling with each other that she realized just how much she hated Storm, and the way he had treated her, like she was dirt. Gwen attempted to wriggle away, using her speed and lightness to her advantage. "Get away from me!" She growled. Nobody had seen this side of Gwen for years. If ever.

She knew what he was. That was a dangerous thing; surprise was key to most of his hunts. That she knew what he was, and what his intent was, frustrated him. Athan snarled, his fangs clasping the air in front of her instead of her throat. That I am, pradă, He pushed forward again, on top of her now. At least he had somewhat of the upper hand, but she was wriggling, pushing him away. He pulled back, settling to grasp her leg rather than her neck, to injury her and slow her down. It would make the kill easier.

"I should have realized at the start," Gwen spat. How dare he come and attack her, when all she was doing was going for a walk. Gwen sighed, then growled, though it was less ferocious and more irritated, "Please, get off me." The thought of Storm was dampening her mood, but this wolf was so similar to him it hurt. She stared into his eyes, scowling. 

She continued to wriggle, trying to get out from underneath the brute trying to kill her. She felt him pull off, and she used those few seconds to leap to her feet, in a fierce stance. Her hackles were fully risen, and she was in no mood to mess around with some idiotic wolf. Though, she was hesitant as the pain inside her heart was large. "Who are you," she questioned, a hint of her pain wavering her voice. However, she was still ready for an attack, at the slightest move from the wolf infront of her she would either lunge or run.