Lake doesn't like parties, he especially doesn't like getting drunk by drinking the alcoholic punch on accident, and he really doesn't enjoy following his friends to go trick or treating and somehow finding himself lost and alone in a graveyard. There is a tall figure sitting calmly on a large gravestone, so dark he appears as a silhouette, his tapered cloak moving in the wind as though suspended in water. Lake walks up to him, made of curiosity, bravery and booze. The tall man stands to tower over him, in his left hand a scythe is raised and the blade glints in the moonlight, darkness reaching out from him like a thick fog. Cold red eyes pin Lake down. "Who disturbs this halfway realm of death? Who dares to approach the harbinger..." But the little human in front of him seems unafraid. His large blue eyes squint as he reaches through the black fog and presses his hand on his chest. "Wow, that's really cool, how do you do that?"

(Can be read as a stand-alone but it is a spin-off from Bleeding Heart and I'd recommend looking at that one first to get a better idea of his previous situation) No good deed goes unpunished. Not even for the king of wolves. Marquise had been one of the first werewolves to settle into society with his pack. He had paid a high price for the relative safety, though. He had forced his wolf to become a test subject for science, and while its blood had helped countless humans, in the end, not only had he destroyed his other half, rotting it to the bone and forcing it to seal itself away within him, he had also unintentionally brought chaos and pain upon the other wolves he had recruited to live within the city. Now, left with nothing, not even a wolf of his own, Marquise leaves London and enters the dangerous forests surrounding it, intent on allowing his body to finish decaying until it took his life... if a feral wolf didn't get to him first.