Settling into the tree he was perched in, the werewolf sighed, scratching at the stubble on his chin. He was by no means new to this area, but he was, however, very lonely on a daily basis. He’d tried going into villages, only to find out that he wasn’t excepted, even in his human form. It seemed that they could tell what he was even then. So, he gave up on trying to “conform” to the villages and settled into the old, rundown hunting shack that someone had left up in the forest some ways away from the village. To be sure, he watched the shack for a few days, satisfied that he’d be left alone.
So now he sat, some ways away from the shack, waiting to see what the new day would bring him.