I was born a feline in the year of the wood but I was caught and I was bound in gilded chains of rusty gold. I gnawed my paw off to set myself free so now… I am more than a little mad and quite a grotesque sight to behold.
I hunt alone exclusively; I have a need for solitude for I am haunted constantly by my years in captivity. “Tiger, tiger burning bright… In the forest of the night…” …have you ever heard of that lil’ rhyme? “What immortal hand or eye…” Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Once upon a time I fell; but the scent of a trap, I have learned to smell and I have learned to run at the sound of wedding bells. No more questions, no more chains, no more ring-rigged bear-traps forged in hell.
The beast was here all along…