Thread: Night of the Wolves (Onica and DareToDream)

The number of years that had passed by had been long lost to her, as did the sense of time. Caged away for no reason by her captors, other then to guard them by day. Yet it seemed that the past few months she was not even being used for that. Locked away in the these damn cells that smelt like mold and stayed damp. Hands running over the collar around her neck which held her name engraved in it, Cross. Giving her time to think about the past and how all this started. She had been born in the middle of world war two, in the Nazi concentration camp of Auschwitz to a Gypsy mother and an army POW. The year of her birth was lost to even her. Mother dieing in child birth, Cross and her brother only being kept alive because of fact they where twins. Oh how Josef Mengele loved to experiment on twins which soon lead to the death of her twin brother. To young to recall how beside by fate alone Cross' father was able to escape with her in tow. Escapes from the camps were few, but not unknown. Few Auschwitz escapes that succeeded were made possible by the Polish underground inside the camp and local people outside. With the war still raging on Cross found her younger years moving from spot to spot trying out run the Nazi soldiers trying to recover those that escaped. Their luck running out one night while hiding away in a local's barn, the farm attacked when the soldiers that were searching got news of there location. Cross' father once again getting away with his young child, only three at the time. Old enough to remember what happened that next that night. The wood around that farm where thick. How could her father know there were worse things then Nazi's hunting in the forest that night. She remembered her arms around her father's neck as he felt to the ground, what ever had attacked her father from behind cutting into it. Her father's body covered her as she watched in fear as the werewolf looked back at her and ran off leaving her and her dad for dead. It would not be until she was older would she would find the clan of werewolves that night mistook her father for an Germany Soldier....clan was doing nothing more then guarding there land. Yet, it seemed that the hate for her own kind was born that night. They had left her for dead and killed her father the man that saved her. Years would pass before Cross saved enough money and found enough information about her father to go to the states. About fourteen in age, being taken in by her father's brother and his wife. Trying her best to live a normal life, but finding it hard to do. She seemed to age slower then normal children, even if she was smarter then most her age. Finding out why on her sixteenth birthday when learned just what happened to her that night in the forest with her father. Learning about her curse as she turned for the first time. Leaving her family so after.... Her years after that where spent doing more or less two things. Trying to make it on her own and trying to find the werewolf that did this to her. And even then her luck never seemed to change. Only seventeen years ago the tan colored werewolf found herself caught. Her days now spent guarding vampires why the sleep. Cross' human body was thought to be small for her kind, earthen hued bangs framed a gorgeous face that harbored hazel eyes. The werewolf kept a slender body that seemed to curves in all the right places, strong muscles present but not seen An elegant hourglass figure topped with an ample, yet modest, bust. Her skin was lightly kissed by sun to give it a warm glow. Her cloths nothing more then rags after years of being slave driven by the clan of vampires that held clam over her. The years had given her time to control her wolven counterpart. Yet even then she was a lovely sight. Her coat is a even mix of light browns, creams fading into a white underbelly. She has white covering most of her face, belly, hands, lower arm, lower legs and feet. Her slightly longer mane staying a slightly darker brown that seems to fade evenly into the rest of her coat. She did not hold a treating look to her in that form, that is unless someone angered her in someway. Looking like nothing more then an average wolf standing up with more of a human build. Sleeping eyes opening once she heard foot steps coming down the long stone hall way. The pail skin vampires looking into the pen that housed her, whispering to them selves before daring to enter. A sharp pain entering her neck as soon as they did and Cross' world turning black again before her eyes.