The humans always told tales about you. Hushed whispers about a monstrous brown wolf, packed full of muscle and might. The son of the legendary alpha werewolf, a beast that hunters dreamt of killing. You were always hunted, and always fought back. Hunters who pursued you quickly became the hunted, always being defeated by your might and transformed into fellow beasts.
Your nine-foot tall body carried signs of your victory, scarred heavily from the humans who sought you. Your left ear partially torn as a brave human lunged at you with a knife. Your tail damaged and tattered as you were beaten with a steel pipe. Each injury is a pleasant memory for you, a memory of battle.
You love your life, humans ran to you, and you got to fight and fuck. You loved males especially, always ensuring that when you mated with them, it was long and enjoyable. When your father started to move the pack towards the city, you were overjoyed. While not smart, you were always great at hunting. You helped your packs efforts greatly and the city was overtaken by your kind.
Now, you stalk the streets, looking for the survivors. You sniff the city air and catch several scents, your dick rising in excitement as your hunt begins!