The blood moons hung low in the night sky, their pale and crimson light bathing the town in an unsettling glow.
As the transformation inside the black miasma came to a conclusion, a sudden chill gripped the air. The temperature dropped sharply, and an overwhelming sense of dread settled in with it.
A figure emerged from the miasma and landed on the ground. At first, it was only a shadow, but gradually the miasma parted to reveal the creature in all its terrifying glory.
It was a white werewolf!
The creature was towering and monstrous, his fur a ghostly white that glowed against the darkness of the night, reflecting the crimson light of the twin moons.
His blazing crimson eyes were filled with cold, malevolent intelligence. They flickered with a predatory hunger, surveying his surroundings with a calm yet cruel detachment.
Stratford's gaze first landed on the cold corpse of Mayor Hobbs lying near the northern gate.