Send 💥 for a starter where my muse is in a blind rage

The smell of blood was overpowering. Stronger than the decaying wood and wet earth, more sickly penetrating than stale water or the forest’s natural nightly scent.

Of course given the number of bodies it would be expected. Scatterred limbs and entrails dangling from tree branches. Vaguely human forms bent and crumpled in on themselves. In the center of the carnage a figure stood, a long haired human shaped figure with pale green eyes.

On the ground behind them was a messily drawn circle and symbols in red, the meaning of which was uncertain but easily distinguished as not a good thing. In the middle of the circle was a small body, also dead but significantly less mutilated.

Suddenly the figure’s head turned, and glowing eyes snapped to the werewolf’s position in the distance.

Oh. He missed one.

Better fix that.