Barlow

A man writhing face down in the dirt, screaming, poisoned with enormous power. His naked back proved the exchange of blood and spit, yet he fought bravely, so he was spared. But only in body; fate did not allow his essence to be restored.

Unlike his brethren, Barlow does not remember life before he became afflicted with lycanthropy. The group that claims his allegiance lives in a village surrounded by deep forests, but he has no home there. The cobblestone is his bed, and a moth-eaten scrap of wool keeps him warm while he sleeps during early morning. A beloved nuisance, giggling to himself but always watching. Monitoring, with underestimated cleverness and ambition.