The Heartwood I'm a cold soul, I roll solo

He was by nature a transient being, both physically and mentally. He had no goal or true purpose other than surviving as long as he could. Only a few constants remained outside of his bloodlust: a few people who managed to escape his teeth, his sire, the few other vampires he had met, and his family.

He had not seen many of them since he was banished. He had met his father here in Teekon Wilds, briefly. It did not mean as much to him as he thought it would. His father had been alive. Perhaps he was dead now. Such it was.

Such it was that this forest, which he once remembered as green and flourishing, was burnt and blackened by fire. It seemed like this had been long ago, but recently enough that the ash and soot still burnt the air. In the darkness of night the forest's charred skeleton was eerie, with claw like appendages reaching out from the ground and rake the air. It reminded him of home. Of a childhood long ago.

Wolf scent slunk through the ash, bolstered by many and strong claims. He was near a territory. No, it was more than that. Someone was nearby. Athan froze and scanned the air, searching for movement in the blackened shadows.