A Gentleman is Simply a Patient Wolf [ONESHOT]

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In the dark of the forest, a beast was prowling.

He'd long caught scent of something utterly divine, and hunted it with vigour, lips smacking against the other as saliva bubbled in his throat. The demon hadn't thought that he'd find his meal on such a cold and desolate eve, but fate had rewarded him well, and he was thankful for the gift. The stench of fear reached his nose long before he even drew eyes upon his victim. He could taste the tang of their exertion carried on the wind's frosty air, and smelled the salt in their tears with flared nostrils. Whoever they were, they were running - and running fast. Chased, perhaps? Or driven by hysterics? Hard to tell, but it excited the demon either way.

A twig snapped nearby, cracking like a whip under the heel of someone's boot. His head snapped in the direction of the sound, scanning the surrounding area with eager and hungry eyes. Stumbling from between the trees, a human figure appeared in the glade, hands clutching at many layers of coloured fabric that skirted around their ankles - a female then; a girl.

Grin turning predatory, the demon leaned to observe the entire radius of the glade.

Like a newborn foal, the maiden tripped across rotting tree roots, head whipping in every conceivable direction as the oppressive shadows closed in on her. Harsh breaths escaped her lungs in harsh pants; the moisture evaporating within the cold night air. As she turned, her eyes drew upon the frozen brook nearby, at which point she threw her hands skyward and released a long and despairing cry. Clearly, the poor soul was lost, and seemed to be walking in circles.

As she stepped into the moonlight, the creature took in the girl's attire. She wore layers of loose skirts - none of which would actually succeed in keeping her warm, given that the gossamer was damp with snow and torn in more than one place. Peering closer, he could make out intricate lacy patterns detailing the bodice, which now had large gaping tears running through it. They were ruined, to say the least; salvageable perhaps, but it was impossible to restore the wispy garments to their former glory. Upon her back was a scarlet cloak, tied securely by a knot around her neck. The thing was slightly too large for her petite form, he noted (perhaps belonging to an older sibling or parent?). It dragged behind her every step; snagging on thorns and brambles, dirtying the hem and causing it to fray. The sweet thing looked incredibly worse for wear; disheveled and dirty like a common vagrant.

She paid her appearance no mind, however. Aimless as she was and blatantly unsure of which direction to go, the girl was hellbent on moving forward. Her determination was admirable, he would give her that. Sadly, in spite of her bravado, the demon knew she wouldn't last much longer in this cold. Already, her body was showing signs of fatigue and her pace had slowed significantly in the short time he'd been observing her. Sooner or later, she'd succumb to winter's kiss.

Perhaps, she'd pass peacefully; collapse with exhaustion and slowly freeze to death as she slumbered. Or perhaps she'd encounter one of the many beasts that lurked within the forest and be ruthlessly torn apart by the daggers that lined their voracious maw. Wolves, most likely. Now that would be a gruesome end. He'd seen their hunting methods many a time before, and was well familiarised with it. The chase - if there even was one - would be laughably short. The girl would be pinned within moments. They would rip at her stomach firstly, teeth shedding her of those pretty rags, digging deep within the remnants of their prey to unearth the organs and gulp them down. Then, they would feast on the softer areas of flesh - what remained of the abdomen, the breasts, the buttocks, and later, the limbs. If anything was left of her, it would be left behind to feed the vermin of this wood.

She would find no mercy from them. Luckily for her - or perhaps unluckily - she'd encountered him first, and he wasn't willing to share with a pack of savage mutts.

Exhausted as she was, the maiden decided to rest for a moment, feet dragging against the icy ground as she slowed to a shaky stop. Tentatively glancing around, she moved to lean against the tree he was currently crouched in, chest rising and falling with every raspy intake of breath. Her arms enclosed around herself as if to mimic a warm embrace - and then the sobs came.

His heartstrings did not tug with sympathy at her pitiful display. In fact, her vulnerability only served to excite him further, and he strived to close the space between them. Edging nearer to the end of the branch, he watched her from overhead, eyes leering like a hawk. Now that he was closer, he could admire her features much better, though still unable to see her face. She was young, with budding breasts and tender skin; unblemished and smooth like butter. How eagerly he sought to run his hands over such soft flesh. Locks of auburn cascaded down her back like a bridal veil, curling slightly at the ends and bouncing wth every small jolt or movement. Her complexion was pale, and mottled slightly due to the cold, though she didn't seem unhealthy.

An ideal meal, his mind supplied.

Gingerly, the demon leapt down from his crouched position on the tree, landing on the ground a few mere metres from the unsuspecting lamb. She hadn't noticed his presence - her senses dulled by the cold - and he took the opportunity to lean nearer. A strong gust of wind blew southwards - in his direction. Wisps of auburn kissed the air, dousing it with a heavenly scent. Licking his lips, he could practically taste her, and it took a great deal of willpower not to latch onto the exposed skin of her neck.

Apparently, he'd been so distracted by the girl's intoxicating flavour that he hadn't realised the low and lustful noises trilling in his throat carried easily across the small distance between himself and his prey. She'd heard him.

Her body tensing, the girl spun to confront him, fear painting her features like a startled doe, and eyes as green as summer meadows found his. They shimmered with tears, wonderfully bright, and he wondered how pretty they would be if he were to pluck them out of her skull and look upon them from a different - more impossible - angle. By human standards, she was a true beauty. Even to him, whose tastes differed greatly to that of the human race, she was very pleasing to look at; every attribute was worth admiring.

The maiden's hair danced around her in the low breeze, crowning her head like a fiery halo. Strands of it stuck to her pale cheeks, still wet with tears. Upon seeing he wasn't an animal intent on devouring her (or, at least, that's what she believed), her body relaxed - but only slightly so. He was still a stranger to her after all.

"Forgive me, miss. I didn't intend to frighten you," the creature said gently, holding up hands to show he bore no ill intentions.

"You didn't, sir," a voice as soft as velvet replied - quiet in tone and shaky. "I was merely surprised."

Liar. Clearly she wasn't as trustworthy as she was stupid. This posed a challenge: now he'd have to earn her trust. Irritating - but easily overcome.

"Tell me," he purred, tone softening with reserved concern. "What is a young lady like yourself doing so deep in the forest by yourself? It's quite dangerous, you know."

At the mention of danger, the girl's eyes switched from suspicious to sorrowful, growing mournful as she pondered her own fate.