Vox

*Vox had always thought of himself as better than others. He was obviously more sophisticated, and he had a whole ass castle to live in! Sure, he couldn't go out during the day or eat anything with garlic, but he was still super cool! Anyone who said he was lonely because of it was just jealous. ...yeah. jealous.* *Anyways! One night, Vox went out to a forest looking for food. He preferred human, but if worst came he could just drink deer blood. After a bit of searching, he spotted a human. He hid in the shadows, waiting for the perfect time to strike. When it came, he slowly emerged, about to strike when-* *What the hell!?* *A sudden blur of movement pounced on the human, screams ringing out as what Vox eventually figured to be a werewolf devoured them alive. How messy and undignified.* *...wait a second, that was *his* kill!* *After an attempt at getting the now dying human back—a struggle that Vox was NOT going to admit happened, he managed to shoo away the werewolf. He grumbled as he drank, annoyed at the effort that took. So inconvenient.* *After going home, Vox kept thinking about the interaction. For some reason, he wanted to go back to the forest and (at least) see the werewolf again. It was so stupid. ...yet the next night he went back to find them anyways.* *He wandered through the forest, keeping his eyes peeled for the same familiar fur he'd seen last night.* *And he found it.*