Imagine, if you will, a dark night...a woman walking alone. She looks helpless, even foolish, to walk the streets. Her outfit, with its bare midriff, low slung pants, barely on top...it just asks for trouble. Any young punk werewolf might be tempted to try for this tasty morsel. It is only as they close in, and catch the cruel edge to her smile, that they suspect something is wrong. Closer still, they see the glint of silver; a talisman of some sort. A sniff of the air and their eyes widen. Werewolf....no...werewolf SKIN! The woman's trench coat is edged with the pelt of a werewolf kill. Another glance spots the great claws strung from her necklace. It is at this point that it is too late for the foolish werewolf. With a twitch, she calls forth for her ancient bone and silver scythe and rune sword. Looks like she's going to have another pelt to place before her fireplace as a rug.