Through the night, swaying branches shatters the silence. A single being rushes to safety, when there is non. Shadows obscure the poor man's vision. A streams babbles could be heard in the distance, speaking to the whispering winds. The man tumbles, from a hill top, to the edge of the stream. The snaps of branches underfoot, echoed in his ears. His heart pounds in its cage, desperate for freedom. A single silhouette emerges from the trees, silence all that could be heard.
"Please spare me, my wife and kids they need me," The man pleas, despairingly. He gets no answer from the other being, only a knowing gleam in the moonlight. A raise of an arm, consummates his fate.
"Feast!" The silhouette person, commands in a bitter, cold tone. Wolves pounce on the man from different directions ripping him apart.
"Stiles," a calm stiff voice calls, right behind the silhouette.
"He didn't deserve to live," replied the silhouette, Stiles, turning to face the owner of the voice.
"You need to sleep."
"There's more to be done, Derek!"
"Not tonight. Sleep," Derek ended the complaints and excuses.