Firebrand tended to pace when the moon was full. He patrolled the ruined graveyard on all fours, black fur bristling along his hackles. His serpentine tail weaved behind him among the half crushed headstones. His ears perked at every hint of noise from the surrounding forest and he would stand perfectly still for a beat before moving again.
He couldn't stay in the old church that he'd normally use for shelter. Even outside in the night air he felt caged. No. He needed to move, to run, to feel freedom. But he couldn't risk being seen. Growling low to himself he dug his claws into the dirt in frustration.
He craned his neck to the sky, arching his back, the red scales on his underside glinting from the moonlight. His tattered, batlike wings stretched longingly as a howl escaped his lips. It echoed through the night, and was very quickly answered by other wolves beyond the shroud of trees.
This calmed him somewhat. Those creatures knew nothing of him, yet from a distance he felt kinship from them. Listening now to the voices he'd stirred, he lay back down, resting his muzzle upon his paws, and waited for dawn.