Half Moon Waxing 54%

Lyall woke with a start, first aware that he was face down in the snow nude and second aware of the screaming fire that arced down his back. He screamed, shamelessly.

Weak moonlight bounced off of the snow. It was night time and it was either shortly after his assault or a month after. Aching muscles attempted to lift his body but here was more keeping him restrained than simple exhaustion. Once his breath started to flow in short partially restrained gulps Lyall's freezing digits dug up a thick and heavy length of chain that attached a set of manacles. The hume let out a short gasp of bewilderment, turning over in the snow and simultaneously realizing the snow was red around his midsection. Too much of his body was numb so he kicked his legs to uncover a second chain, a second level to his imprisonment.

The crunch of footsteps, someone approaching. Lyall turned rolled over and faced the moon, her face half-dark in the night. A form blotted it out, the features embraced by the shadows and only a large silhouette glared down. Lyall's face was painted with confusion.

"Do you know why you're here, beast?" The voice belonged to a hume, a large one. It was deep, bellowing. Lyall was more confused than anything and only stared in defiance. There was a sound he recognized as a weapon being unsheathed. A small glint in the moonlight and the dagger was clear.

The large shape loomed down and Lyall got a better look as the moonlight colored his face. It was a hume, a man who could have passed for his late sixties. This didn't make any sense. Had Lyall been tracked and ambushed by this man? His curiosity and wonderment had distracted him and the ache in his muscles and back blinded him. Lyall called out as the dagger bit into him but not because of pain. His muscles were too frozen and numb to send the pain and it only struck him as a distant discomfort. Lyall watched the tip of the knife dig into his skin and something deep inside Lyall snarled.

"I'm going to keep you here, beast, and when you change, I'm going to skin you." The words were foul and full of malice, whispered directly into Lyall's ear. The hume struggled against the chains with futile recklessness. The cold acted as a muscle relaxant and the position left him with no leverage.

For no reason at all Lyall had a visage of that terrible gaping maw from his dream. Something primal inside him cried out. The old man just smirked and backed away, a symbol drawn in Lyall's skin that he didn't recognize.

Crunching footsteps, someone walking away.