Dawnwalkers, like me... Who are we, really?
We carry a vrakhir's fang in our hearts and share some of our creator's powers, but we never fully transform. During the day, we're still who we used to be, as if nothing happened - and it's almost possible to forget...
But then, at night, the hunger kicks in. The rabid beast wants to be fed... An unnamed god demands a blood offering...
Will this kill me, eventually? Make me lose my mind, forget who I was? Am I damned? Beyond salvation?