It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously,  Having learned all that they can about Fjord's odd incident, the party embarks on their second day of travel.
DM: "Oh, I don't know what happened. They started to burn the buildings and these things started rushing. The city is under attack."
Player: What things?
DM: (panicked) "Big things. Dog-faced. I can't-- Come on." They just keep running.
Player: Dogs are attacking the village!
DM: At this point, you guys can see more people are fleeing. As you get closer, about 100 feet outside the city, you watch as the droves of people are beginning to get-- at least either the ones that are actively fleeing have made it out of the city, or in the process the stragglers are still coming through. You see a young human man with scrappy, tattered brown hair, a bit of blood dripping down his face, running before his back arches and he falls into the grass. You can see an arrow protruding from his back. At that point, you can see, standing up from behind one of the exterior walls of the city, a humanoid creature stretching up to about seven feet tall, muscular torso with thin dog-like legs. You watch as it extends its neck with spots of fur, its ears curled upwards as it has a dog-like snout at the front of it.
Player: Werewolves!
DM: You watch as it leaps onto the back of this fallen villager, bites into the shoulder, and tears a chunk out. Swallows it before it growls into the air (yipping howl).
