text: You slowly approach the group of hunters, head down. You take  One of the Hunters lets out a yell, as they group quickly turn around to aim at you.
  
  
  "It's trying to communicate," one of the Hunters says incredulously. "It's non-hostile."
  
  
  "It's must have some dregs of humanity left. Keep aim, lads!" Ernest shouts.
  
  
  You pause, eyes flickering over the leader of the Hunters, wondering where you recognize him from. Some distant memory that's rapidly fading from your mind. Soon, you no longer remember his name, only recognizing his status as leader through his physical cues. The Hunters faces twist into ones of confusion and malice, but they hold fire.
  
  
  "Listen to me, beast," Ernest says sternly, sighing his face. "If you can hear me, it's OK. We need to put you down. I think that we both know that. I know you did, somewhere it what remains of your soul. It's OK. It'll be OK. May God have mercy on your soul."
  
  
  Feeling pain run through you, you lower your face, not able to meet his gaze as you try to decide your future.
  > You flee deeper into the woods
  You twist around on your legs, bursting off them in a single leap as you find yourself flying through the air, finding yourself in a sprint. The Hunters raise their weapons, a burst of bullets firing out as you leap from side to side, rushing behind the trees as bullets hit the dirt around you, splintering wood and narrowly missing you.
  
  
  Still, you're faster than they could be, and with your blessings, you manage to avoid the bullets with ease. Soon, you're out of range of the gunfire, hurrying along the woods as the sound of gunfire becomes more and more distant, as you head deeper and deeper into the endless forest.
  
  
  As you run, your worries, your hate, your anger burns away, as you just find yourself running, any traces of humanity being shed with each step. Mankind has rejected you. Fenrir has taken you in. You're no longer human.
  
  
  You are a beast. You are a predator. You are a hunter.
  
  
  You hear a few scattered howls through the forest, the answer of the surviving werewolves to your call. You howl once more, calling them to you. You have no need for Hunters anymore. You have your own predators now. 