Tears streamed down your face as the cold metal of the barrel rested on your forehead. You'd been with the gang for a few weeks and had disappeared during a full moon, he'd gone out to find you only to spot you as a mangy mess while your wolfish form receded as the moon left the sky. He'd dragged you up by your shirt collar and yanked out his pistol, only now with the gun to your head was he hesitating "Christ, don't look at me like that. You're a damn threat you overgrown coyote."