Name: Grayson Crow

Age: 32

Species: Therianthrope; Lycanthrope

Current Residence: Evermore, Colorado

Face Claim: Micah Truitt

Positive - Kind, forgiving, good listener Negative - To trusting, socially awkward, a little strange

Grayson Crow was born to a fairly wealthy family in 1986 in the town of Lafeyette, Louisiana. His parents, including himself, had five children, 4 girls and him, the only boy. Grayson is also the youngest of all four siblings, the oldest three being in their early forties, and the youngest sister being only 5 years older than him. Growing up with four sisters had its toll on Grayson, and even though he loved his family, he found himself away from the house a lot. He would often sneak out at ungodly hours to go and explore the woods, in search of the rumored “wolf man.”

Grayson had always been a curious child, so when he had first heard the tales of the “wolf man” he was immediately enthralled. Elder’s in his small town told horror stories, passed down by many generations, of how the man had preyed upon the towns citizens for years until he was finally forced into exile by the mayor, and finally, they were at peace.

Or so they thought.

Some of these elders claim that before he was exiled, the wolf man promised to return, and turn another. Most of the towns current citizens see at as merely a campfire story told to scare the children, but others thought it to be true, which is why Grayson often ended up in the woods at who knows when, searching for the supposed wolf man.

When he was fourteen, Grayson cams face to face with him. It was a full moon, and he had been walking for what felt like miles, when he saw the outline of a wolf. It was huge, and solid black, his eyes glowing dangerously in the moonlight. Grayson, terrified. Had tried to back up, but sadly stepped on a twig, catching the wolf’s attention.

All he can remember after that is the image of the wolf pouncing, searing pain shooting through his right leg, and then opening his eyes to realize it was now morning, and he was being put into an ambulance. He passed out on the way to the hospital, and woke up to all four of his sisters, his mother, and his father surrounding him. Happy that he was alive.

He spent only three days in the hospital, after bandaging him up, and performing tests they deemed him ready to go home. He was told to stay off his feet (the wolf man had apparently gotten his leg and thigh) and to rest up.

It wasn’t until he was home that he remembered it wasn’t a regular wolf that had attacked him.

He tried telling his family, doctors, friends, whoever would listen about what was in those woods, but everyone wrote him off. Simply saying that he was traumatized, or that the stories were just mixing with reality. No one would believe him, that is, until after once again failing to convince the doctor that it wasn’t just a wolf that had attacked him, an older woman sat beside him.

“I believe you.” She had whispered to him, not looking up from an HGTV magazine as she talked.

“You do?” Grayson had exclaimed, eyes wide, happy to have someone on his side.

“Yes, but you say his bit you?”

Grayson had nodded, not understanding where she was going with this. He only got more confused when a look of pure sadness overtook her features. “You poor boy...” she had mumbled, and before Grayson could ask what she meant, his mother was rushing him out and back into the car.

Two weeks later, on the night of a full moon, Grayson found himself alone in his families barn, screaming bloody murder. He didn’t know what was happening to him, he had come out to clean the horse stalls when an immense pain overcame him, causing to collapse. He sobbed, as the horses whined and kicked at their stall doors, obviously spooked and wanting to run. Grayson had truly thought he was dying.

It felt like hours before the pain stopped, and when Grayson stood, it felt almost unnatural. It wasn’t until he caught site of himself in the reflection of an old tractor rim did he realize why.

Instead of his normal, human face, reflecting back at him, it was a wolf’s. His fur was light, only consisting of light browns, white, a beige. He was smaller than the wolf who had bitten him, but still larger than your average wolf. Not knowing what to do, he slept in the barn, the old woman’s voice echoing in his head from two weeks before.

“You poor boy.”

It was his eldest sister who had found him in the barn. His parents had gotten worried when he hadn’t returned and sent her to go make sure he hadn’t reopened his wound and bled out. When she saw the wolf, she had frozen, and it wasn’t until she looked into his eyes that she realized it was her younger brother. She ran screaming to her parents, begging them to help.

When Grayson had finally turned back, he had found himself at the kitchen table, bags packed and in front of him. His family, saddened, by the thought of having to make him leave. Grayson knew it was for his own good, so, when they arrived at the train station, he gave them all one last hug, whispering “I understand” in each ear before boarding the train to Evermore City, Colorado, where he now assumes residence.