Nighttime seemed to fall even quicker than Blue had anticipated. The darkness consumed him whole, leaving him feeling vulnerable, scared, and very cold. Years of being assisted by artificial light and living in light congested areas had left modern humans' eyes weak in the genuine darkness of nature, and Blue was no different. Even as his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness brought about by the setting sun, once all light had gone Blue found it very difficult to gauge precisely where he was going. He told himself all he had to do was keep going forward; he was already pointed east so as long as he didn't allow himself to get turned around he should (theoretically) be able to keep on the right path. And, if he didn't make it to the campsites by sunrise, at least then he would be able to reset his course. Assuming that he made it through the night.<br/><br/>Blue's heart was pumping furiously as he continued to run, doing his best to ignore the burning in his chest and legs. He had decided he would keep moving until he physically couldn't anymore, until he collapsed on the forest floor and resigned himself to death. As long as his legs were moving, there was still a chance.<i> One more step</i>, he thought. And again. And again. And again. The simplest of mantras to keep him going.<br/><br/>But then he heard it: the howling. Most of them were some ways off, but one was incredibly close. Blue realized that he was surrounded by predators, each one eager to sink their teeth deep into Blue's soft skin. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to convince himself that dying out here was an inevitability, despite the astronomical odds working against him. That first howl, the initiating one, it was so<i>dreadfully</i>close. Blue's heart continued to pound in his chest, but now it was a frantic pace. Could the wolf smell him, taste him on the air? Could he hear the blood rushing through Blue's body like an untamed river?<br/><br/>Tears began to prickle at the edge of Blue's lower eyelids. The anticipation, the fear of the unknown was penetrating deep beneath his skin. Had he made a mistake by running? He had told himself over and over that his chances out here with the wolves were practically zero. He should have stayed the night with Lofgren, he should have waited until sunrise. But no, no, Lofgren wasn't trustworthy, that much was evident. Running then had been his first opportunity, and it was impossible to predict when another one would come along, if ever. Blue took his chances and this terror was the price he had to pay.<br/><br/>Blue stopped. He heard something. The adrenaline had heightened his senses and left him feeling paranoid and flighty. His eyes darted around as he dug the balls of his feet into the dirt, ready to take off at a moment's notice. But then he noticed the yellow eyes standing in front of him, the same yellow eyes he had seen last time. So bright they seemed to glow unnaturally in the darkness, causing a pit of fear to sprout in his gut.<br/><br/>The large beast stood a short distance from him, just staring as if waiting for Blue to make the first move. His mouth went dry, and he found it difficult to swallow the lump in his throat that had come with the wolf's appearance. "Stay back," he commanded, his grip on the handle of his knife tightening. "I'll kill you!" he warned, his voice shaking as he took a few steps back. The hope, the prayer that the wolf would leave him went unanswered. Blue barely had time to react before the wolf pounced on him, pushing him forcefully down to the ground and the knife out of his hand.<br/><br/>The wind was knocked out of him and Blue gasped in response, trying to fill his lungs with air as quickly as he could. But then, almost instantly, the impossibly large wolf that had him pinned with paws bigger than his own fist was gone and a human male was now in its place. The moon and stars offered just enough light that Blue could vaguely make out the man's features. The intense musculature, the thick beard, the intelligent eyes. They were a different color now, no longer a bright and fearsome yellow, but were somehow still the same.<i>Lofgren</i>was the only thought that flashed into Blue's mind before a loud, piercing scream emanated from the young man's lungs.<br/><br/>He struggled frantically, his hand searching blind for the knife he had lost as he tried to squirm away from Lofgren, the beast, whatever the fuck he was. He could feel Lofgren's weight on top of him, smothering him, and something firm pressed down against his pelvis. His fingers grasped at something wooden, but smooth, as if carved out and processed.<i>The knife</i>. His fingers wrapped around the handle and he swung his arm toward Lofgren's side, feeling the knife hit<i>something</i>although Blue couldn't quite be sure where on Lofgren's body he hit, if at all.<br/><br/>Blue scrambled now, bucking his hips up into Lofgren to give himself enough room to slide out from beneath him. When he felt a slight release of pressure on his lower limbs, Blue rolled over onto his stomach, attempting to crawl away from the monster that seemed intent on taking him. Blue's mind was silent, adrenaline and muscle memory the only things able to control him now. Blue could not even begin to comprehend what he was seeing. The wolf, it was there, gigantic and threatening, a quadruped beast with fur that melted into the darkness but that beast had transformed into a man right before his eyes. It was impossible. Things like that didn't happen, monsters didn't exist. Everyone knew that. Blue knew that.<br/><br/>He dug his feet into the dirt and tried to push himself up, but his damaged shoulder didn't allow much weight to be put on it and Blue nearly collapsed into the ground. "Fuck!" he groaned, clenching his eyes tightly in response to the pain. He tucked his arm close to his torso and struggled to get up on his knees to propel himself forward. He was facing the wrong direction now, pointing back in the direction where he came from, Lofgren's shady cabin, but he didn't care. He had to get away. Blue sprung forward, attempting to run, hoping Lofgren didn't pursue, silently knowing that he would.