The hulking wolf stalked the edge of the farm. Silvery fur glistened in the dim moonlight.

Mable had mentioned things could be dangerous from time to time being a vampire, and sometimes wolf nature was irrepressible.

Skulking along the boundary o f her girlfriend's farm, the dire wolf form of Urshul-Emily rubbed itself against the fence for what felt like the hundredth time, leaving a trace of fur. She padded further on, stopping only to relieve herself against the side of the entrance before skulking further around.

A scent caught on the wind, setting primal instincts rolling. She sniffed the air, flooding her senses with the scent of her territory, trees, nature... but also food. Always heavily driven by her stomach, Urshul-Emily moves along the road, shrinking and becoming smaller, lither - faster. All the better for hunting and chasing. Urhan-Emily squeezed through the wooden slats on the fence, pale eyes spotting the source of the smell that had lured her to this very spot. She licked her muzzle hungrily.

Something deep in her hind-brain reminded her to stop, but it was shouted down by instincts and other primal needs. The Wolf must Hunt, after all.

Slinking through the darkness, Urhan-Emily approached the coop.

A chaotic screeching of chickens, flurry of feathers, flapping of wings and a snap of trained jaws brought down a young plump Rhode Island Red.

By the time Mable would make it there to find out what was going on, the wolf had her nose deep in the bird's giblets. She pulled out to give Mable her best puppy-dog eyes, licking her bloody lips.