I ran far away, into the forest. I had to get my form out, a form not many people believed. Strange old men were chasing after me. I couldn't stand seeing a silver pitch fork in their hand. Wam! I fell upon the grass. My necklace lying on the floor. I grab it, and run off, my hips were cracking with each movement. For someone like me, I was a were strider. A were creature not many was pleased to see. I took out what looked to be a mask, a man made metal mask to restrain for eating and mawling on the humans around this place. My name is an alias, an alias for those who didn't take the time to know such a dark soul. Placing the wolf mask on my face I shut it from the back, throwing the key into a hole at the bottom of the tree.