Phoenix Maplewood i was the one who stood in rain

As the figure of ashen steel weaved betwixt the looming trees, he became distantly aware of a scent - it grew like roots to spread across his mind, filling his heightened senses with a delightfully fresh bloom of satisfaction; even more, the rapid growth of his burning hunger. She was close. His path adjusted accordingly, shifting so that he was not ahead of her, but beside, following her movements with only a brief distance between them, masked by the elongated shadows cast by the wood.

Ice orbs of glacial beryl scanned the feminine figure with peaked interest, following the lithe dips and curves of her physique and allowing himself to feast upon the chocolate hues encompassing her pelt.

But eventually, as with all things, he grew tired of simply watching. His jaws ached for the sensation of flesh between his teeth, and so the reaper stalked closer like a panther in pursuit of prey, sliding up alongside her with graceful swiftness. "Why do you come here alone?" He murmured, gruff voice slipping from his lips; the elegance of the words' departure from his tongue was a stark contrast from his intentions, the malice waiting behind sharp eyes.