Iktome Plains And when the crimson moon comes up, he drinks the blood of slaves

The habit of waiting for his prey, like the ambush hunters that lurked on the ocean's floor in wait, proved fruitful. He was not alone in the windswept fields for long. The warm-toned wolf's very sight excited him. His dark amethyst eyes lit up with excitement as he studied him. The strigoi chuckled darkly in his throat; he was right to fear him, to cower against the ground like a rabbit.

If that was his tactic for deterring Athan's approach, it was a hilarious one at best. Little would stop him now that the boy was in sight, not with the hunger propelling his body forward towards the meek figure. He held his fangs back for now, but his breath was already ragged and wild with anticipation.