while not a character i have used in any of our Glastonbury endeavors, still a story I'm working on, and I liked. Graff is a character from Stash and My PnPRPG Werewolf game.

Graff looked down at blood on his claws and grinned. It had been a long and bloody battle, but the rite was over, he was now a Garou in the eyes of his brethren. Though a lowly one at that, but that would change. After all, all the Get of Fenris were mighty warriors were they not! The blood was thick and black from the Spiral Dancer, but that would serve such a wyrmling for betraying his people in such a way.
Looking at the face of the Dancer reminded him of how he got here in the first place, of his mother’s death at its hands. He had not always been Garou to his knowledge, in fact Graff was the name he had assumed amongst the Garou, and that which he used when traveling the realms of the Homids, since he could not always stay Crinos as he’d wish it amongst them…………

Running with his pack was his life, The Alpha had let him hunt at the youngest age of them all, barely a yearling, yet he kept up with the strongest of the males already. His mother had left him and his 5 siblings in the care of the Alpha right after their birth, and she had left never to return. His father though was still of the pack, yet even he could not keep up with Fleetbear, and Fleetbear’s kills were always the swiftest. The jugular was always the best bite, and he rarely missed. The hot blood of the kill was always his biggest thrill, but it was fleeting in comparison to the feeling of the hunt. This day was different though. During the hunt, the males had picked up a strange scent, a mixture of the two legs and evil. Legends passed down amongst the pack told of black hearted wolves who roamed the fringes of the forests, preying on the humans and wolves alike, for the sake of destruction, killing, but never consuming what they had brought down, just destroying. This smelled of such madness, and it smelled so from back the direction of the Den. The pack made their swiftest speed back in the direction they had left only a moment ago to see a horrible site the Alpha, and all her cubs lying slaughtered at the feet of two monstrous forms locked in combat.
Looking at these figures brought a tinge of fear to all but Fleetbear, who had seen such creature in his dreams. The one looked all too familiar, it should being that she was his mother, but she stood on her hind legs looking almost like a man. Looking as she did, a cross between man and wolf, the other was black as night and stood a head taller than her. He also looked like a cross between man and wolf, though his features were twisted with madness, malformed to such a degree, that tentacles whipped from his back to strike his mother unmercilesly. Mother bared her teeth and told the pack to flee, then without missing a beat she ripped into the darkness with her teeth. Tooth and claw she fought, yet every blow from the thing threw her back. Fleetbear cried the howl of the fight, and tore into it’s ankle only to taste the fowl blood of the thing barely drip on his tongue. The beast turned around, and with a mad grin of glee and made a swipe at Fleetbear, catching him on his flank and sending him into a nearby oak. Red flashed in the wolf’s eyes, and he felt as if he’d entered one of his dreams. He all of a sudden felt his flesh stretch as if to rip from his bones, while his bones cracked and elongated. As he grew, he felt stronger, and angrier. HOW DARE this thing flick at him as if he were an insect! HOW DARE it turn back to his sprawling mother and reach down to her with its dripping claws! And then the unthinkable happened, the beast ripped his mother’s throat out with one fell swoop of its claw. She immediately seemed to shrink and shrivel. Her form changed to that of a human female, and she lie bleeding the rest of the way towards death.
With a howl of vicious rage Fleetbear leaped at the beast with his fangs bared and his claws extended, only to be hit with a force out of nowhere, and to fall flat on his face in the dirt. Of a sudden there were howls all about him, and looking up, he saw 10 that looked like his mother come screaming out of the woods, they surrounded the beast and beat it until it passed out from its wounding. One of the man/wolves walked up to him and said,
“Worry not young cub, you will get your vengeance on this Wyrmling soon.”…………