Its frame was powerfully built, draped in sinewy muscles that rippled with each subtle movement. Its skin was dark, almost obsidian in shade, and matted with coarse, brown-grey hair that ran along its back and shoulders.
Its arms were particularly massive, long and thick like pillars of living steel, ending in claws capable of shredding metal. It walked with a hunched stance, but that did not make it any less menacing. Its head… a feral, unmistakable wolf's head. Eyes glowing an eerie yellow, sharp fangs drenched in fresh blood, and a maw that moved with a hunger untouched by reason.
WEREWOLF.
Yes, a werewolf—but not the kind whispered in Earth's myths.
This was the real thing. A lycan—an evolved predator from the world of Qi. It had gained humanoid form, the dream of all lower beast mutants, and in doing so, had become a being of carnage.
