A faint snarl escaped from between the beasts teeth. He had been watching the village for a while now; saw how they moved, mobilized, and came into his territory. He didn't care if he was the only wolf, since he considered himself one, these were his lands, and he would share them, but only to a certain degree. He realized they needed food, but he needed it too, and humans were prone to over hunting. Keeping his white frame hidden in a bush, he stood there, motionless, glad for the years and years this forest had lived. The brush had grown and was able to hide his larger than normal form, and keep the white of his coat hidden when there wasn't frost and snow on the ground. When there was, he blended in effortlessly, and became nothing more than a ghost to these villagers; some glowing yellow eyes and occasionally a stain of red.
Today he could sense the humans were moving. He didn't know what, or where, but he saw them prepping, and saw that red. The woman who headed it all of, adorned with a bright red cloak. His snarl grew in volume as he remembered seeing those flashes of red that were, for once, not blood. Putting his nose to the air he sniffed around, hoping to catch some idea of why the humans were bustling so much today; what was going on; what was happening. But he knew he probably wouldn't get much for information; they all tended to smell like fear when they came into his woods.