"She's always had a special connection with wolves." "Really? Why is that?" "They brought her to me." As a child you drew pictures. Animal pictures. Wolf pictures. Your mother told you stories about wolves. Why they howl at the moon, why they live in packs. They are the only thing that matter to you. The only thing in your little world.

He placed torturously slow, sweet kisses all over her neck before biting into her skin. We all watched in complete silence, one you could hear a pin drop in, but not because of the act, we were almost used to that, but because of the girl's breathless moans of bliss that echoed off the walls as he devoured her blood. "People are trapped in history, And history is trapped in them. Do you really think you have the guts to destroy me?".