Lunarwulf

It hunts the small hours across ground the living have surrendered, pack-less by nature but drawn, on the fullest nights, to run in loose spectral company with others of its kind. Its howl carries across dimensions as well as distance, and creatures that hear it feel the cold of it in their teeth. It grows stronger under a full moon and thins to a rumor under a new one, so that its whole life waxes and wanes on a lunar tide, and a Lunarwulf caught out in the dark of the moon is a shy, half-real thing that flees rather than fights.