<Salazar> met the waking world with discomfort in the position his body had taken as he’d slumped and toppled to the floor with the rising sun. Now he dragged himself back upright and into a kneeling position before the alter of the cold and empty chapel. He was still alone, just as he had been the night before.

<Salazar’s> mind briefly flickered to the faces of his pack as he righted himself and the lack of their presence seemed all the more intense for it. He’d was briefly surprised at the ached for company and to be with them, but they were out enjoying the excess and he was here praying for his souls as well as theirs. He straightened is clothing and folded his hands in prayer once more.

<Salazar> ignored the hounds baying in the distance. It wasn’t him that they hunted and his mind focused on the prayers he knew so well. Perhaps his devotion would have been more impressive if his muscles still ached from kneeling for too long or if his hunger was for food. Still, fasting for a week would leave him with a ravenous beast inside himself, but how could he pray to redemption if he was consuming the life blood of others? His hunger gave

meaning to his actions.

<Salazar> remained unmoving in the dim light of the chapel as he prayed and fasted. He didn’t need to move, his limbs didn’t tire as a mortals would, though he did breathe. It would be a long night, but not the longest he’d faced on this earth.

<Salazar> shivered as the draft stole his warmth. It was a holdover from being human and as second nature to him as anything else. He didn’t need to stop to find warmth, so he let it roll over him as a reminder of the darkness beyond this chapel.