Beast, Meet Snoink.

This is a comic.  There is no changing that for me. Since I can't draw well enough for it, I'm trying to hover between a narrative style and a script style. I want it to be readable on its own, but adapt easily into a script format. Let me know how I'm doing.

Rated for mention of cannibalism.
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He stalks the night; unbeknownst to most people.  He likes it that way--it makes singling out his prey that much easier.

He only chooses the old, the weak, and the injured; he's doing them a favor, he tells himself, by culling the population this way. They're better off because of me, the human part of him cries out in a last attempt at sanity.

She knows he's there, and she feels sorry for him. She knows his love of animals, of his gentle heart that would stop beating, were he not deceived by himself. She knows he's a good man gone wrong, horribly wrong, and she wishes she could stop it.

Perhaps she can.

~::~

He pauses on the windowsill, watching the sleeping child within. He licks his lips--but no, not this one. The parental aspects of the canis lupus are still too strong in him to eat such young creatures.

He turns to find new prey--and comes face to face with an eye-blinding pink.

The little girl gazes steadily at him for a moment before attempting conversation.

"Poor, sweet wolfie-man. Are you ok?"

Taken aback by the kindness in her voice, the wolf-man tilts his head quizzically. No one has spoken to him like that… perhaps ever.

He's even more taken aback when she takes his head in her hands.

"You big softie.  This whole thing is tearin' you up inside, isn't it? You've convinced yourself you're doing the right thing, but that's just to avoid the guilt--isn't it? You know it's wrong. You know you shouldn't be eating people."

Somehow, though he thought he'd lost the ability, Wolf-Man starts to cry.

"It's ok. It's ok. I've got you."

She wraps her little arms around her neck, holding him close as the fabric of reality changes. He closes his eyes at the new sensation…

And when he opens them again, he's on a mountain.

He's dressed in somewhat old-fashioned mountain-man clothes--buckskin?--and for some reason he's wearing a large pack.  Looking down, he sees a large, black wolf, who returns his gaze levelly. The look seems to say, 'What's up, boss?'

As he looks around, he can't, for the life of him, remember why he's here.  But does it matter? He's a westerner, born to survive in these woods--changed by civilization though they may be. He has his wolf by his side--a companion  won through hard battle--and nowhere in particular to be.

Which is just how he likes it.

He steps out quickly, a slight grin coming to his face. There's hunting to be done.

~::~

Elsewhere, a short brunette watches him on a large screen.

"So your happy ending's great and all, but what's going to keep our Big Bad from turning him back into a monster?"

The little ball of pink energy Snoink whips around indignantly to face her.

"He was never a monster!  He was just really confused and sad, that's all."

Dynamite raises an eyebrow.

"Really confused and sad people don't normally turn cannibalistic."

Seeing as Snoink is beginning to resemble a pufferfish, the older girl raises her hands in a placating manner.

"What I'm trying to say is--how are we going to prevent him from going feral again?"

Snoink settles down and begins rocking back and forth on her heels.

"I've taken precautions~"

Dynamite gives her another disbelieving look.

"Are you sure?"

Snoink begins hopping up and down.

"Yep! No one bad will e~ver be able to touch him again!"

Dy turns dubiously back to the screen.

"Alright, if you say so…"

Back in the forest, the hunter and his wolf have successfully killed their first deer.