[ WP ] You 're not blind , you just can see air .

He could n't remember the day his eyes were lost. 
 
 It was probably the stress of the whole experience. He'd been nothing but a weak child when his father had taken a blade towards him. Not that it had helped the aged hero very much. The curses that he held in his blood were enough to eliminate that temporary danger and enough to sustain him until he woke up the next day with nothing but scars left to show for the incident. 
 
 Only he could n't see. The blade had found its mark in a way- that peerless blade wielded by his father, the great hero, renowned'slayer' of the Beast. 
 
 It did n't have the effect his father had hoped it would have. He could still sense his surroundings, even if he could n't see. More importantly, the Beast he transformed into when the moon hung in the sky could still seek its living prey. 
 
 His body was filled with curses, a legacy of the Beast his father had bound inside his soul. He felt the moon at all times, bounding towards him as the warmth of the sun faded to be replaced with the cool of the evening. He could smell a tapestry of life around him, each shuddering human figure reeking of fear, each gentle stirring of air outlining an unfamiliar world around him in the vivid tones of scent. 
 
 They were afraid. Rightly so. He was a predator cloaked in human skin. If he ever chose to be careless, he could wake up covered in warm, sweet blood. 
 
 For some years in his early life he had indulged in mindless slaughter, he had been reduced to a mere beast of the fields. Not so anymore. He was no longer a mere beast. As he travelled the land he grew in spirit with each encounter with wandering sages and bards and simple travellers along the long road. 
 
 He would be benevolent, a saint through inaction. He would be kind, a predator who hunted only those deformed in spirit and soul. 
 
 He would be himself, whatever his father had intended. There was no manner of beast, human or otherwise that he could not best. There was no Beast that he could not tame. 
 
 With a vibrant, beautiful world swirling and churning around him, how could he be any less? 
 
 

