RPM
KatherinWinter
Hope Lover
Stryder BC
Otakuforreal
KittyMaxxie
Not a Sayan
Shadow DragonThe sign never came for the team of hunters. No sight of fur or fangs, no sounds of breathing or footsteps other than their own, not a single rustle in the bushes before the savage attack was unleashed upon them. Within a second after the first roar of the grey wolf, Shamira was certain that a couple of her companions were already lost. Startled cries escaped the rest as they attempted to fend off the other canine creatures which had taken the team by surprise. It was clear that the wolves had been waiting for the hunters to show up this night, much to the latter group's dismay. Unprepared for combat at such a close range, the hunters instinctively scrambled away, scattering into the forest in various directions. Some would escape completely, while others would run with a creature or two hot on their heels, leaving them only a narrow chance of survival.
Shamira could have not made a narrower escape herself, for after an unexpected force had presumably taken advantage of her distracted state and made contact with her legs, she had found herself on the ground practically wrestling with one of the attacking werewolves. Whether it was the same one who had tackled her or another, she could not tell. A set of claws sliced through the cloth serving as one of her sleeves and into the flesh of her arm, drawing blood. In the frenzy, she managed to reach for her dagger, and drawing it out of its holster, she drove it deep into the hide of her assailant before being able to make her escape. Her flight response had taken over, and there was nothing else to do but run, at least until she had the time to think about what else she could do.
Through the trees she fled, dashing, leaping over fallen tree trunks, and occasionally stumbling from pain and panic. Once silence was realized, she slowed to a stop before slumping against a large tree to catch her breath. She then glanced around her surroundings, alert and wary of any sound or movement that might indicated any nearby danger. Sure enough, above the sound of her own tense breathing gradually came that of footsteps, ones that she was fairly sure did not belong to a fellow human. She immediately ducked, hiding herself behind a large root of the tree from whatever was approaching. She then readied another bolt, this time preparing to drive it into the creature that would show up.
Shamira could have not made a narrower escape herself, for after an unexpected force had presumably taken advantage of her distracted state and made contact with her legs, she had found herself on the ground practically wrestling with one of the attacking werewolves. Whether it was the same one who had tackled her or another, she could not tell. A set of claws sliced through the cloth serving as one of her sleeves and into the flesh of her arm, drawing blood. In the frenzy, she managed to reach for her dagger, and drawing it out of its holster, she drove it deep into the hide of her assailant before being able to make her escape. Her flight response had taken over, and there was nothing else to do but run, at least until she had the time to think about what else she could do.
Through the trees she fled, dashing, leaping over fallen tree trunks, and occasionally stumbling from pain and panic. Once silence was realized, she slowed to a stop before slumping against a large tree to catch her breath. She then glanced around her surroundings, alert and wary of any sound or movement that might indicated any nearby danger. Sure enough, above the sound of her own tense breathing gradually came that of footsteps, ones that she was fairly sure did not belong to a fellow human. She immediately ducked, hiding herself behind a large root of the tree from whatever was approaching. She then readied another bolt, this time preparing to drive it into the creature that would show up.