Franklin was returning from the woods, still in his bestial form, carrying a large deer over his shoulder. Approaching the nearby fire pit, he dropped the deer, blood still coating his claws from the kill. It had been quick, merciful, and he had thanked the spirits that they had provided him yew again with such a meal. Still, nothing of this animal must go to waste, lest he anger those he served.<br/><br/>Hunching over, he let out another roar, not as loud, as his body began to shrink back into his human form.Claws retracted into his body, fur becoming skin again. Dropping to one knee, Franklin let our a sigh, the transformation took a lot out of him, but once he ate he would be good as new.He took some logs from near by and started a small fire, not only to serve in cooking his meal, but as a place to practice his magic tonight. By human standards, he was strong, but he was still just an apprentice by his tribes standards.<br/><br/>His tribe. He often talked of them as if they were still alive. He wouldn't be here if they were. His tribe once ruled this area, his father the leader. He himself had completed the rituals to be the tribes next shaman, their new leader, when his father passed into the spirit realm. Almost 200 years he had been training, but he still only had a fundamental grasp of the magic of nature. And now that those humans had sent the rest of his tribe to the spirit realms, he had to continue alone.<br/><br/>As he started carving up the deer, he noticed a presence. It was magical, faint, he had almost missed it but not for the subtle changes in the air. HE grabbed his axe, standing on guard. “Who goes there. Show yourselves.” One hand upon his axe, one reading some magical energy, he stood at the ready, prepared to defend himself in necessary.<br/>