Abiciamus vestis ovium

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(Art by me. Please don't judge the wolf creature too harshly, I'm really bad at any angle that isn't a side profile.)
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The young girl wandered into the woods at her father's request, a basket of goodies held by her hip. Her uncle was ill, you see, and his hunting lodge bore little comfort in his time of need.

As the sky grew black, our poor maiden lost her way. She had never traversed these woods before. Without the path to guide her, she'd never make it to her uncle's home.

The goodies in her basket, however, drew in the attention of a woodland beast.

"How far from home you must be, my darling child. What brings you into these unforgiving woods?"

She froze, eyes widening in fear. Her thick brown shawl fluttered in an errant autumn breeze as she gazed up at the towering silhouette. White eyes, glowing like a pair of perfect stars, stared at her from the darkness.

The creature smiled, showing off a countless number of needle-thin teeth; each one as sharp as her uncle's collection of hunting knives.

Our young maiden couldn't help stepping back as it leaned forward; exposing its muzzle with drool steadily dripping to the ground.

She knew of this monster.
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Oliver had been gone for quite some time, and (Y/n) wasn't going to wait for him forever. He was cold and getting hungry. Lucky for him, Oliver left his matchbox behind.

The flame flickering behind his protective (s/t) hand allowed him to see the path Oliver had left behind, even if the blonde's footprints were already partially covered with fresh snow. Had that bastard gone ahead to (G/n)'s cottage without him?

How irritating...
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Oliver, why did you hit her?

Oliver, why did you bite him?

Oliver, why did you do this?!

Oliver, why did you do that?!

Oliver always knew there was something wrong with him. Afterall, there had to be some reason his parents didn't love him. Back then... it was anger issues.

He wanted to play by his own rules, and he'd violently retaliate if anyone dared to boss him around. He was a problem child, and his parents had chosen to distance themselves rather than give him the love and help he needed.

His neighbor, Mrs. Alice Fisher, was the only one who seemed to recognize the cause of his behavioral issues.

Perhaps she had seen through their windows; had watched the neglect Oliver faced when he "played" alone in a barren backyard. No matter how she knew, it was her that guided and taught him how to handle his anger in healthier ways.

Then his parents vanished, and he was sent to that foster home. It was inevitable that Oliver would relapse into a hot-headed brute. He had hurt so many people during those years...

In high school, he was the typical delinquent most people assumed he would be. Broken homes often produce broken children; and broken children often wreak havoc on a world that never seemed to care for them.

Maybe that's how he ended up with a job like this...

In all the time Oliver spent walking those disgusting halls, he had never been interested in anyone around him.

None of the other students at Maple Ridge were appealing to him. Not sexually, not romantically, and not platonically. They were all too... meek.

Better off as prey.

The man wrapped in crimson silk, however... well, he was the first person Oliver found himself reluctant to torment.

To tease was simply in his nature, but his duty required something much harsher. Allowing (Y/n) to wander through Ringberg, even under supervision, was prohibited.

And yet...

He couldn't do it. Something inside of him just wasn't...

He couldn't - wouldn't - do it.

Harming something so beautiful... it should be a crime.




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