LYCAN
The Tarkattan warriors approched the camps of the local village. Hearthknot. When they passed through the gates, they were met by the guards. The guards nodded their head in approval, allowing the warriors to pass through. They each walked to the building at the center of the village and walked in. The leader of the village, an old, scraggly man greeted them. He ushered both of the warriors to their seats, sitting in front of them. The guards did not look impressed, and got straight to the point. "Where's our tax, old man." The old man grabbed a bag of gold cons and handed it to the warriors. The warriors counted it carefully and individually. They both looked at each other and shook their head. One of them proceeded to flip over the desk and pin the old man to the wall, blade extended. "What did we tell you would happen the next time this happened?" The old man scrunched his face up tight. "I-I promise we'll get it next time, we just didn't have enough to feed our young!" The tarkattan laughed. "I'm afraid your village won't last long enough to pay another tax, because you have denied Kahn, and the punishment for insubordinace is death." The old man's face shifted into an uninterested look. "I tried to reason." The tarkattan flew across the room, hitting a wall before the other warrior looked back at him, confused. He watched as the man grew until he towered over the warriors, and he slowly morphed into a hybrid of a man and wolf. A Lycan. The Lycan looked at the tarkattan before roaring, sending him ruinning out the door. He picked up the other tarkattan and carried him to the prison, where he would sit for the rest of his days.