Hello, I'm Tavis, but thats enough personal information for now. This is my first attempt at an ongoing story, so bear with me as changes are made, and the story is imporved over time. Reviews,and comments are greatly appreciated, and forgive some spelling errors, I have a problem with that. I am putting up a list of the characters that will appear in the story, but this is liable to change at any time. I strongly suggest that you read all the chapters I have up, before looking at the Character list, as the story is supposed to have mystery elements to it.

Cast Of Characters

Azeral (last name?): A Ahroun Garou, from the tribe of Fianna. Male

Ivy Quachegan: A Galliard Garou, from the tribe of Children of Gaia, Female

Galchurva(Blood Tide): A Brightwater Rokea, male.

Bart: Male, Nosferatu underling

Tre:Male, Nosferatu underling

Thats all for now folks ^_^







The Cold was biting, it chilled her to the very bone. It was no worse than the freezing lonely nights spent on the tundra of Canada she supposed , but still, how she longed for a warm fire, a good meal. An even greater hunger enveloped her, an all consuming fire to learn what she was, what has happening to her. The thoughts came muddled, jumbled in with other things, as if she could hear other people, creatures, unseen things. She had cried the first nights, the ceaseless chatter, no it wasn't chatter, it was more of ring, but with some type of harmony to the madness.

Ivy stood up then, leaving the cardboard boxes that she had called home for many a day, to find food. Stopping at a four way intersection she broke into a spasmodic coughing fit, she had a fever she knew, or worse. But what could she do? She was homeless, a runaway from Canada come to Boston searching. Searching for what she mused. Answers? Certainly none has presented themselves to her in the past weeks. Was she searching for a grasp on her sanity that even now was ticking away like the hands on a clock? Another fit of coughing broke her train of thoughts. She looked up and sighed, her breath visible on the cool night air. The light changed and she started across the street, her footfalls coming in a scarcely audible taping sound. A sound echoed in her ears, was it her own footsteps? No, she decided, it couldn't be, that was improbable. But then, the impossible had been happening to her, so anything that seemed unlikely did happen. Bringing a hand up to her face, she wipes across her wind torn lips, blood smearing her pearly white fingers. The sound was gone now, but still echoing in her ears. With a quick glance to the right, then to the left, she runs forward, the rest of the way across the street, and into a dark alleyway, where shadows encompassed even night.

~

The Boston harbor. Quite a desolate place, with biting winds flowing constantly off of the Atlantic ocean. Here, in this most inhospitable of places, the poor and impoverished, the weak, and the hungry, the pitiful and insane all called home. Though if they knew what lurked beneath the number 7 docks, even the insane would flee in mortal terror......

"Damn...cold...fucking..", Jeb muttered to himself. He muttered to himself a lot these days, spent most of his time alone, on the number 7 docks...he didn't need the others...let them pray and rant and rave all they want, he just wanted a good meal and a warm fire every now and again. Breathing out, he stares into the inky black of the harbor waters, watching the calm ripples float by, smelling the sea salt air. In the distance he can hear the rest of the homeless, talking, even laughing. It was a rare thing to find cheer in places like this...Maybe he could make an appearance, hell , even Dottie's rat stew sounded better than being alone right now. Standing up, he heaves a sigh, and turns his back on the waters.

The scream never reached the fire where the rest of the people sat, eating, and talking...sometimes laughing.

~

Ivy stared blankly at the store. It had food inside, food she needed. From the alleyway, darker than the night around it, she watched carefully, like a predator staking out its prey, as the people stopping for their own various reasons flittered in and out of the store like flies through an open window. The thought of robbing the store passed through her mind, but she quickly dismissed it, she couldn't rob anything without a weapon...they would look at the 90 pound girl and laugh. She sighs

"Another night without food..." She curls up into a ball on the hard concrete ground. " I'm going to die out here..." She whispers miserably.

She did not feel the wisp of breath on the back of her neck until it was too late. A powerful hand reached around and grasped at the front of her throat. With what seemed barely a twitch, the hand flung her back against the alley wall. Her vision blurred, her mind teetering on the edge of blackness. She did however, get a glimpse of her assailant...but a glimpse was all. Her mind gave into the call, and faded to black.

~

From an alcove, twenty feet above the scene, a man watched. He didn't move, nor did he speak, he just watched the spectical unfold below him. He knew what the two...things..were that had attacked the little one. Things were all they could be called, for they were not men. Their faces were contorted, and ugly, with bulbous noses, warts, and wide, staring eyes, eyes too large to be accepted in the normal relm of men. As the two lifted the girl up, to spirit her away to whatever ungodly place they resided, the man sprung into action.

~

"A skinny thing Tre, Barely any meat on her bones, hows we supposed to sell this"

"Shuts your mouth! We brings this one back to the master, hes know what to do.." "I Smells something...another one of the wolfies...is near"

"bah, its yer nose playin tricks on you..the wolfies is all gone from here, cept this one"

"Maybes you right.."

"I knows im right, why I saw raf take out on of them nasty th.."

Tres voice is silenced abruptly, so much so that the second turns around to see what had stopped his normally chatty companion. He was gone.

"Tre...?" The second ones voice is weak and small...He sniffs the air..."Wolfies..." He says, and his voice is resigned. He was going to meet final death.

He drops the girl down, worrying now more about his own safty than acomplishing his mission. He starts to walk backwards, his yellow eyes staring into the darkness where Tre had dissapeared. A bead of sweat drops off of his enlarged forehead, dripping onto his crooked nose. His ears twitch, he hears something...Footsteps.

"Tre?" he calls out again..and sure enough, his companion comes into view a moment later " I thoughts the wolfies had gots you!" He rasps, his panic almost subsiding. He turns around and picks up the girl again " Lets gets outta here" He says quickly, for something still didn't feel right. He hears a dripping sound, but dismisses it as a drain pipe dripping water into the alley.

Tre reaches a hand up to his chest and grabs on tightly, his skin folding in as if it were putty. In a blur of movement he rips his arm forward, pulling the skin off of his whole body. The second thing turns around...and drops to his knees. The burning hot sensation of pain was all he knew. His death came swifter than Tre's did.

~

Azeral leans down over the girl, brushing a strand of hair from her face. With a grunt he lifts her up, and flings her over his shoulder, making his way down the alley, towards home.

Later that night, when the two did not return, more were sent to look for them. All they found, was the skin, and a head that had been ripped in half, for the rats and various things of the night had taken the rest.