Crimson is walking through the woods, his eyes darting to every sound his ears pick up. He is walking through the woods, the leafs crunching against his shoes. He runs and hand through his tousled dark red hair until he picks up a scent. A strong scent, to the smell he darts towards it the loud sound of footsteps echoing through the trees. Crimson stops in his tracks when he comes across a werewolf, immediately he ducks under a bush