The thick scent of blood coated the air, blending everything else in his surroundings until they were little more than peripheral blurs. Normally, his senses were strong and with the ground still damp from a recent rain, the wooded area should have smelled new and alive. But the stench of death coated him, clung to him as he ran. He was unable to escape it. As he tore blindly through the brush, he felt as though he could still feel the heat of flames at his back. Every gust of wind carried another gunshot to his ear. The screams of his pack rattled around in his skull. The Hunters had found them.<br/><br/>He had tried-- oh, how he had tried to save some of them,<i>anyone</i>. But all that remained of his efforts stained his already rust colored  fur a deeper red.<i>They are monsters</i>, he remembered one of his clan crying out as he grabbed at him. Before the woman could say more, a shower of bolts came down into her back, bathing him in her blood. It was a miracle that he had gotten away, but he certainly had not come away unscathed.<br/><br/>But he had been running for so long-- he could vaguely recall the sun rising at least three times he had seen, and finally, he was out of energy. No longer could he hear the crashing tides against the sands of his homeland. None of the scents around him had any sense of familiarity. For now, he hoped, he was safe. His steps slowed, his legs shook, and he collapsed, sprawling across the forest floor, sides heaving painfully with a thin whine. Now that he had given it the chance to catch up with him, he could feel the strain of the days he spent fleeing, with little more than a mouthful of rainwater to wet his throat.<br/><br/>Exhaustion threatened to blacken his vision, but the sound of footfalls against the grass and twigs near him made his ear flicker. But he was so damned tired-- he could barely lift his head to see what danger may be approaching.<br/><br/>He could not die here-- not after everything. He only needed to rest for a while, and then, he could continue onward. He could get help, maybe even seek vengeance. He pinned back his ears and curled his lip; the bloodstained wolf let out a low growl.<i>Keep away,</i>was the warning. He was in no condition to fight, but he had no other choice than to survive.