Foiend was angry, but then again he was always angry, he had searched and searched for the dragon shape shifter known as Araile for years, to no avail. He swept a hand across his brow, he was drenched in sweat, these were modern times but he had never quite learned the skill they called driving. For years after Araile had escaped him he hid in his cave on the island of Temult and planned. He planned out the hunt of her, her capture, her slow and long torture, the blood he would harvest from her body after he had killed her, oh and his favorite part: ripping out her heart while she still lived so that he could eat it while it still beat. That was the only way he had ever managed to find that he could steal her shape shifting powers from her, and he intended to do so. The blood he harvested was for a bath that he would have to take after he consumed her heart, he was to completely submerge himself in it after a day of his body digesting the heart. Normally things like this would disgust someone, but it excited him. Foiend was a nasty wizard, a downright evil being. He might have once been good, but he had long forgotten when. There wasn't a shred of who he was once left in his heart nor his brain. He strode to the end of the path he had used to cut through a neighborhood, he looked at his map, according to this he was about 3 days from a town called Hooveville. He would stop there, and rest and eat. He decided while there he would try to pick up on Araile's shape shift aura. He hoped he would finally get a ping, and that she wouldn't feel his presence till he had her heart in his hand.