Lake Rodney there's no such thing as a hero

A second beast stalked beneath the comforting void of the evening shadows, much less gracefully than the other. Ivory bubbles formed at black lips and piercing shoulder blades stuck up from its skin, foaming head lowered to the ground and eyes almost purely white. Blood dripped from its canines and painted the snow, following the droplets you'd find the remains of a rabbit, though so desecrated only its smell would indicate what it had been before being ripped apart. 

His stomach was full, but his mind craved much more than food. Gleaming orbs spotted the perfect target, any sense of its likely overpowering size or strength was dismissed.