The werewolf lies in wait, hidden in dense undergrowth. The air is saturated wit

the werewolf lies in wait, hidden in dense undergrowth. The air is saturated with the smell of decay and the whisper of forgotten magics.. His fur, drenched in the blood of a recent hunt, goes perfectly with the shadows, his eyes sparkled with a predatory gleam. near, a group of unsuspecting villagers, armed with torches and crude weapons, proceed with caution, their breath is visible in the cold night air. They are looking for the beast, terrorizing their homes., without suspecting, that the hunter became the hunted. When the wind carries their scent to his sharp nose, the werewolf tenses up, muscles curled up like springs, ready to cause chaos in this darkness, medieval nightmare.

(worst quality, low quality:1.4), bad hands, bad fingers, deformed hands, deformed fingers, fewer digits