Breathe.<br/><br/>Crone parted his muzzle to let out a snarl, expelling oxygen turned to poison. Evening was quickly turning to night. It was primetime to do some business. He lingered in the air, hovering above the midnight cloaked town, the symbols and brushstrokes forming his wolf body growing more and more restless with each passing second.<br/><br/>It was kicking in again, and tonight, Crone wasn’t about to lose sight of this particular prey.<br/><br/>The demon surged forward, light paws forming soft pitter-patters along the rooftops of houses.<span style="font-style: italic">Oh, how this place had changed! </span>The reminiscent town, once a lush and plentiful forest, now inhabited many unnaturally-straight buildings, and in turn, the lives of mortals. Whilst traditional wolves would have loved to live in what this place had once been, demon wolves like Crone learned to adapt to their environments; there simply wasn’t any other way. As an immortal, the closest he could come to death was to hurt. “And so we thrive,” Crone muttered, completing his musing. Long, sturdy claws tensed beneath his nimble frame, turning red at the tips as though they were chunks of steel being heated up by his craving, his desperation, his hunger -<span style="font-style: italic">this aura</span>. For the past week, a single aura had been throbbing at his heart, practically calling his name for the beast to devour. Crone salivated at the sheer thought of it. Feeding off of tainted souls, feasting on one’s imperfections, one’s lies, one’s melancholy; the bigger the aura, the more space for darkness to seep in, and the better chance this demon had of feeling full for another week. Throb, throb, throb, ack, the aura itched him with palpitations and cravings. The wolf stirred as his wings folded, staring down a particular home along the road. He could practically see the aura exuding from the crack of the doorway. And so, he lunged towards his desires.<br/><br/>Crone usually took the stealth approach when going about hunting down a soul. He weaved through the home, uncertain as to where he was in the house. He was entranced, drawn to the aura like a magnet, his sensitive leather nose quickly alerting him of the directions he needed to silently pace through. Peering into the shadows, he noticed a light. Silently disappointing; he would have to take extra care not to startle the figure. Drawn to the dim glow, the wolf took tentative, careful paces. Tenacious paws gripped onto the floor beneath him; just how potent was this aura to be? Mere inches away from the figure’s neck, he was ready. Rising his back, he loomed over the opposing figure like a tall shadow, teeth gleaming, head reeling, heart feeling this aura beating-<br/><br/>Until the girl, assumedly seething, sent a dart of magic<span style="font-weight: bold">pealing</span>through the room.<br/><br/>“There’s<span style="font-style: italic">sorcery</span>in your bones?!” The next few moments would pass by so promptly, but would cause more chaos than Crone would ever participate in just for an assumed quick midnight snack! Fumbling about the magic user’s home, the startled demon frantically ran along any surface he could. Spells were terribly damaging to creatures of his sort, in fact, the only thing damaging to creatures of his sort! “Ugh, why didn’t I assume this earlier?” He cursed at himself.<span style="font-style: italic">‘It is the last time I’m following a strong aura presence,’</span>he thought.<br/><br/>Such a notion was verified by the fact that the demon had been struck by one of the magic user’s surges on the way out. Crone fell to the floor, groaning in pain on the cold surface, as the world around him turned, and his vision skewed. He felt his whole body start to ache, and turned to his dreams for comfort. The curse felt devastating; he didn’t know what was happening to him now, but closed his eyes and felt his body lay significantly heavier on the ground.