#lycaon.

It would be a cold day in Hell before Lilith would pass up the opportunity to bother the original lycan, whether that be with her simple presence or with her words in his ear. As it were, she would perhaps save her little sprinkling of ideas for a later time, as she approached with an eager pep in her step. “Lycaon, darling, you’re looking quite simple today,” she mused, with that ever present smirk upon her lips. “I’m surprised to see you in this area, given how they don’t quite have your favorite snack on the menu.”

The smell of the original lycan permeated the air around her. In many circumstances, she wouldn't have cared to follow it, to allow it to draw her ever closer to the beast. But oh, Lilith was in a particularly foul mood. All her careful planning, all her time spent lying and toying with those around her, lost to a future that would never exist. And when she was in a mood, how she loved to toy further with those around her. How she enjoyed creating something of a distraction, something to take her mind off of what had been hers. What had been right in her grasp. Invisibility slipped across her skin, as she disappeared completely to draw herself close to the original. That is, until she had gotten closer, until she had found a spot to make herself comfortable. "Hello, darling," the words were soft and sweet, a technique she had learned long ago. "Where have your little mutts gone? Realized you wouldn't be winning the war for them?"

"Lycaon, darling," there was a singsong quality to her voice as she approached the lycan, an almost skip to her step. She had watched him entertain the masses in the animal show, had clapped along with the rest, and had now come to collect him. Both her hands reached out for one of his own, drawing him away from the adoring fans so that she could steer him towards the gladiator fights. "Come on, then. Let's take bets on who will be the victor. My money is on the little one with glasses."

The chaos of the wedding had bled into the streets, just as the lycans celebrated the victory of their newest alpha, and not a single aspect of it mattered to Lilith. No, she had much better matters to attend to. Though, as she slinked through the masses otherwise undetected, a particular dog caught her attention. As what wasn’t there appeared, Lilith stepped over what may have been a lifeless form as she drew closer to him, ever intrigued by his anger towards her. “Lycaon, darling, don’t you look quite -- ruthless,” a mild compliment as she stood not far from him now, and the destruction that he had already laid claim to. Oh, this was most certainly going to be interesting.

Dreams had always been where Lilith thrived. Able to slip into the minds of any creature, she was free to plant the seeds of ideas, and to nurture them how she saw fit. Weak men had always been her go to, especially those that had poured favor into the Gods. And Lycaon had been no different. He had been easy, entertaining, and perhaps one of her greatest to date. That is, until it had cost her her life. But that was neither here nor there, for the sudden sight of him, out in the streets of Rome, brought a sudden intrigue to her. Did he know what she had done? Was he aware of her deception, of her hand in what he was now? “Lycaon, darling, you’re looking quite --- human.”

*the two prominent characteristics that differentiate lycaon-wolves from other variants of werewolves are: 

 you cannot be turned by a bite or a scratch; it must be passed down genetically, so all lycaon-wolves are blood descendants of lycaon**

all lycaon-wolves are immortal like their progenitor [physical ageing ceases anywhere between 35-50 years old. it depends on the wolf.]