text: You slowly begin walking in the direction of the smoke, keeping your mind on the burning pain in your chest. Your bullet holes and bite mark have already scabbed and scarred over, no doubt from the healing abilities the beast within has granted you. Still, the silver burns just as harshly, like flames trapped in your chest. It's a struggle trying to focus on the pain, to let it consume you and drive you into a violent psychosis, but you have no alternative. Whenever you try to ignore the pain, you can feel the monstrous urges return. The unending hunger, the desire to break free, the need to howl up at the sky, the lust for the power of the wild... you keep focused, and the burning pain continues.
  
  
  As you walk, you notice just how tight your clothes feel on you. No, not tight. Surprisingly, they seem to fit you perfectly, by whatever abilities of the Patchwork Man. They're not tight. They're constrictive. You want to tear them off, to feel the wind on your fur and to tear off into the night. You want to taste flesh and blood, to feel the dirt shift under your paws. You want to answer the call of the moon.
  
  
  You shake your head roughly, growling as you tighten your grip on the shotgun. The cool metal reminds you of who you are. A Hunter. 
  
  
  It's a long distance of angered, confused walking, but you soon see lights emerge from the darkness. Not the passionate burning of flames, but the synthetic light of bulbs. You take up a crouching position, slowly sneaking up to where the trees give way to a clearing.
  
  
  A large wooden cabin sits in the center of the clearing, surrounded by bright lights that give light to the cabin. Standing at the edge of the lights, holding a semi-automatic rifle, is a human. The man has a thick beard reaching his chest and long, tangled hair. His arms are covered with tattoos, depicting old Nordic runes and wolf symbols. Interesting. He must be the werewolf-equivalent of a Thrall. You've never heard of such a thing, seeing as werewolves are usually too stupid and bestial to have human servants, but the werewolves you've seen tonight are definitely smart enough to have them.
  
  
  The Wolf Servant seems to be guarding the cabin, which has light plumes of smoke drifting up from its chimney. He hasn't noticed you, and seems to the only guard in sight. You need to take him out to get inside.
  > You open fire from afar
  You aim your shotgun carefully, staring down the iron sights at the man. You still your breath, pulling the trigger as the gun bucks
  
  
  The scattering pellets smash into the guard and knock him from his feet. The man smacks into the ground with a burst of blood, as you rush towards the cabin. The smell of fresh blood drives you forward with a newfound, bestial energy. Your eyes spot a shift in the darkness, as you make out another guard on the opposite side of the cabin to you, a weapon in his hands.
  
  
  The guard raises his rifle, opening fire at you, as you dive to the ground. You roll behind the cabin, putting the wooden building between you and the guard. You slide up against the corner of the cabin, keeping in tight as the bullets fly past you from the other guard. You try to focus on the burning pain in your chest, so you stay calm and collected rather than letting your bestial rage consume you. 
  > You charge the second guard quickly
  You ready your shotgun, before turning the corner and sprinting forward, your gun leveled. The guard aims his rifle, but you simply fire your shotgun, firing a spray of silver. You knock the man off his feet as he collapses to the ground with a scream.
  
  
  You fire again, hitting the man in the side and killing him. You turn to the cabin, pumping your shotgun. Now it's time to move inside and secure the cabin. 