let out the BEAST;

<div align=center>DISCLAIMER;; werewolves are dangerous, I will not be held accountable for injuries to your characters!

Prickly. Restless. Frantic. The night was dark and cold, the moon cast an eerie shadow down upon the canopy below it, tracing creepy shadows across the forest floor that shifted and changed each time the wind drifted through the trees. An owl screeched somewhere far off in the distance, once, twice, silence. Prickly. Restless. Frantic. Obi's head was throbbing and he couldn't see straight, his vision was blurred and he was panicking. Fear was the word to use, something he seldom felt, a foreign emotion to him. He stumbled, falling to his knees, unable to rise again. He knew what was happening, though he thought that maybe he if pushed it away it would stop and he would be okay. He was wrong, he knew that he was wrong. He shook his head and cursed, trying to bring himself to his feet again, panting hard and trying to support himself against whatever he could find. He didn't know how late it was, but the moon had sailed behind a cloud and the wood around him seemed very, very dark all of a sudden.

The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling, a small snarl escaped him, no, no, no. He shook his head a little, tensing up and growling again, not today. Not now. Obi went down again, this time he didn't get up again. Frantic. Restless. Prickly. He heard the back of his shirt rip, and cursed it, that was expensive. Maybe he should have taken off his clothes before all this began to happen. It was too late now, his shirt was ruined and tattered and there was fur growing fast on his back.

Frantic. Restless. Prickly. He bared his teeth in a yellow snarl, amber eyes flickering upward. His ears pricked up and a low growl echoed in the back of his throat. He slowly rose to his feet, enormous head swinging round behind him, his ears flattened, he shook himself, pushing his shaggy, black body up against the closest tree and scratching himself for a moment or two. The night didn't seem so dark anymore, and there was only one thing on his mind. Kill. Maim. Eat.</div>

<div align=center>The creature lifted it's head, human. He could smell human. His ears flicked back against his skull, he skulked forward a little, eyes darting around him, searching for the location of whoever was there. Another growl left his throat, longer, louder this time, a warning to whoever was there. Obi stalked forward a few inches, something catching his eye in the darkness, human. His eyes met hers, he stared, prey. She was small compared to him, he reached perhaps seven or eight foot fully upright, his head was perhaps two or three times the size of hers, one bite. That's all it would take, a snap of his jaws and she'd be lying limp between them. He lowered his head, baring his teeth in her direction, stalking forward a few inches, was he toying with her? Perhaps, she'd aimed a bow at him, foolish. His hackles rose, dark hair standing up on end. The creatures ear's pricked up again a moment later, he turned his head to a new sound, she was not the only human here. A feast, perhaps. Students were warned about the forest, it wasn't called forbidden for nothing. Foolish. Foolish. Foolish. He turned back toward the first girl, the smallest.

It wasn't clear what was going through the animal's head, one look into his eyes was enough to deter even the bravest of men, there was a cold, dead look behind them, a predatory look. The Lycan lowered it's self onto it's front legs and lowered himself to the ground. There was a creepy, ghoulish look about him when he was lower. Were's generally stood on two legs, but they were equally as dangerous on four and could clear just as much ground. He snarled again, warning the girl, if you don't run I'll eat you. If you run, I'll still eat you. It would only take a matter of seconds for him to close the gap between them and tear her throat out, he'd deal with the other two afterwards. The scent hanging in the air made it more or less easy to tell there was a werewolf about, heavy, doggish, like the scent of damp bark. That explained the absence of what seemed like all other life forms. </div>

<div align=center>The girl's comments were ignored completely, he wasn't going to stand there and listen to a little girl yell things at him, he didn't even know what she was saying, all he wanted to do was disembowel her. Blood. Blood. Blood. What was she doing? She was holding something, it looked like a splinter to him, one snap of his jaws and he'd be able to destroy her bow, render it completely unusable. Animals wouldn't come anywhere near him, and if they did they probably wouldn't be a match for him. He was going to kill tonight, he didn't care who and he didn't care how. The creature's shoulders rose and fell with each breath, his teeth still bore in a gruesome snarl at the small girl. Though something made him lift his head, his ears flicking upright. A boy. His head lowered and he turned, all these humans in the same place? It was strange to even see one out here, which was more or less the main reason why he stayed out here all the time, without anyone to kill, he couldn't kill. But here they were. They'd come to him. How could he let prey so willing to approach him get away? His eyes darted back to Claire, and the creature charged. Paws dropping below him, he darted forward on all fours, hitting her sideways on, snarling loudly and snapping at her neck, his teeth coming together with a click. He didn't attack her though, merely knocked her down, though still, that would have hurt.

He rounded on the boy next, his nose twitching, taking in the scent being carried on the air. There was a slightly more dangerous air about the boy, he knew what he was doing. The creature's attacks were based more or less on strength rather than intelligence, though it couldn't be said intelligence wasn't within the animal, he was a person underneath it all, though that person wasn't really much better without the mop of fur and array of fangs. He was just downright dangerous like this. He crept closer to the boy, ears pinned against his skull, hackles raised, teeth bared. Get out. He seemed to say. His eyes locked onto the brown ones of Davis, then shifted to the musket he held. Human weapons were useless, though there was something about this one that didn't seem so much like it was human.

There was someone else here, too, he could smell her. It was a different scent. The other two smelled clean, acidic, they carried that sour scent that all humans carried. The other, currently unseen one did too, but it was dulled down, masked by the heavy scent of earth and woodland. She was smart, merely by her scent he could tell that she was smart. She was a hunter like himself. He knew exactly where she was, though he'd leave her for now, the animal was already preoccupied. Obi turned away from the boy and stalked a short ways off, still remaining on all fours. He could have charged him, ripped his throat out right there. But he didn't. Not yet. This was fun. The animal whimpered softly, the noise sounding a little like a frightened puppy, but that misconception ended soon enough, when he threw his great, shaggy head back and howled. It came out as an almost sickening sound, loud, eerie, frightening. He turned again, growling softly and backing a few inches away. There was almost a frightened look about him, but anyone that had any brains would most likely realize this was a ploy to make them think just that, that he was frightened.</div>