Blackfeather Woods Something about you turns me to a savage

Nothing was funny. He was hurt, alone, in the middle of a dark forest filled with crazy people - maybe forever. But everything was so bright and clean and cold; having never experienced winter before (to his knowledge), Titmouse found this drastic change to everything he knew, absolutely bonkers. He'd gone from a secluded cave of black to an endlessness of white -- so he laughed, cackling until his lungs hurt and then he ran out of air, and stopped.

But the laughter didn't. It carried on, growing hollow and detatched from him, until it enveloped the air all around him. Tit rolled to one side (propping himself with his good leg), and leveled a look towards the black smudge whose laughter had not stopped spilling. What he saw made him do a double-take. It was a wolf but - it wasn't. What the fuck are you? Tit blurted as he hastily scrambled to his feet, the snow flying everywhere in his haste.