Charcoal Moon

Tar

My eyes were open long before the sun came up, my mind assaulted by my dreams. I slipped my drawing book from my bag along with a used piece of charcoal. My hands were drawing the face of the new man, his voice pulling me in with an odd sense of comfort.

He said only one word "Come."

Shaking the thoughts from my mind I quickly ate and apple and drank some water, I want to finish this trip as soon as possible. I don't need two weeks to make it to the castle but if I arrive to soon that will draw some unwanted attention.

Ugh, I let out a huff in frustration, might as well go on human foot for a while. Before jumping down from my perch high up in the tree I tucked my long brown hair into my hood, I took my time enjoying the sounds of nature around me. Times like this when the world is so calm, I feel my most anxious, as if I am waiting for something to happen. Like that dark voice in my head calling for me to spill blood, making my fangs ache for it. I'm so torn, part of me loves and craves the chaos, violence, and blood. I have always known feeling like this is not normal, But I have also always known I'm not a "normal" wolf. Deep down I am very different from anyone I have ever met, down to the way I think and even move. If I ever told anyone how the feeling of blood on my skin is soothing, how the thought of ripping someone limb from limb makes me smile. They may want to put me down, I will be thought of as insane and dangerous. Though I am dangerous, but I am not insane. What would my parents think if they ever knew I used to sneak off pack grounds to kill small animals to satisfy the need to blood, to make my fangs stop aching.

They would hate me, I don't care about others but my parents matter. If they hated me what would I have to live for? At least they choose me and didnt get stuck with me. Dad did not have to step up and take care of me when he found me. No one can ever kn-

The loud crack of a stick breaking jolted me from my thoughts, three wolves emerged from the trees behind me. The whites of their eyes had become black, with their teeth bared at me, they were growling. Hot steam of air flowing from their noses, slowly circling me.

These are not normal rogues.

A large muddy brown wolf lunged for me, not giving me the chance to shift. I drew a large silver hunting knife from my boot.

"Bring it on" My smirk clearly angered the grey wolf to my left.

She lunged for me at the same moment I ran in her direction, before she could snap her jaws closed I slid under her body and dug the knife into her neck. Thick hot blood spilled onto my face, her body slumped onto me. Forcing her lifeless body off of me I jumped back to my feet, the muddy brown wolf growled and nipped its blood stained teeth in my face. Using the hilt of my knife I bashed his left eye, his loud howl of pain pierced my ears. The smaller brown wolf used this to his advantage and lunged at my back, sinking hit teeth into my right leg. Twisting my body I forced the knife into his skull and gave it a yank, forcing it out at an odd angle. His mouth went slack, letting me pull my bleeding leg free.

"Looks like its just you and me now" I flipped the knife in my hand, the wolf looked at me with rage in his eyes. He stepped forward and I jumped catching him off guard, landing on his back he tried to buck me off like an angry bull but to no avail. My legs wrapped securely around his neck and my knife was dug into his temple, he was dead before he knew what happened.

I removed myself from his body, and wiped the blood from my face. Wait, their blood is black. Inspecting it, it seemed thick and sticky and it smelled like a decaying body.

Their blood is becoming tar. My wolf whispered.

Who the hell bleeds tar?