The scent of blood roused him from his attempt at slumber. He had had troubles falling into sleep for a while. Perhaps it had been that night... It had left him in a state of such shock and disgust that he wouldn't let the memories go. He closed his eyes in a futile fight to gain back his relaxed state, yet the blood scent pushed him into curiosity.
A loner, something Lost, he wouldn't ever belong to a specific pack. No tribe really wanted a lonely hermit in their wing. He would be a flaw, an obscurity. And, he didn't want to be in any group. He didn't want to be in any war. He only wanted to become what he once was. Human...
Coming upon the sounds that had soon followed with the smell of crimson liquid, he crouched in the shadows. He was in his human form. His face was handsome and well kept, no flaws making that beautiful skin any less beautiful. His features were perfection, and large brown eyes matched the locks that fell over them. He hid behind this curtain of branches and bushes to get a good look at just what had captured his attention so. He gasped, finding just what it was. A tribe of wolves. His movements were silent, fluid-like. He made sure to bring no attention to himself.
Snap!
He cussed softly. His hand had broken a twig. It had been careless and dumb! Now they would know something was up. He looked around for a place to run, leaping for the nearby shadow of an oak tree in hopes of climbing it. He didn't get far, for his foot landed in the wrong place. He yelped in surprise, falling back against the ground as the strength of the rope around his ankle kept him in place. He looked at it questioningly before the rope slung up by a large rock-weight and he was lifted into the branches, dangling with his head facing the dirt. He chewed on his lower lip, hanging there by his ankle. He had a black, silken dress shirt on, as well as some torn up jeans - compliments of a mortal that had crossed his path. He snarled, making a desperate attempt to free himself before he was caught.