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“A man must follow his true nature, although a man I am not. My true being is something rougher, something deep and damp and dark as an unlit root cellar, a hole in the ground, a grave. I am a ferocious killing machine, barely held together by the deceptive skin of civilization which I show the world by day. As the Fiend below takes mad glee from imitating Heaven above, I walk the earth in the guise of a Holy man...by sunlight, anyhow. Ah, but when the moon takes me, the skin tears away--and I am golden and beautiful, my mouth deep with teeth, my throat filled with eerie song. I cry to the night sky in my hunger and my rage as I follow the call of the hunt, first on two legs, then four. My claws are as razors, churning the ground below me...and I strike...” — Lioness DeWinter