Fast breathing and a pounding heart, a shaky, tiny hand was clamped over your mouth as you hid behind a crate that was ginormous compared to your miniature size. You had no choice but to stay hidden for now, less the Hunter drag you to his basement and keep you down there. You had already escaped once from his cabin of sorts, except you made the mistake of venturing into his shed. You can still remember the slick sounds of the Hunter skinning his prey he had caught. Now you were his prey.

However, a slight shift, you peeking out and over from the large crate and your bare feet rustled a few leaves, sending a flurry of birds upwards into the gray sky, squawking. You could hear the Hunters large, pounding footsteps and heavy breathing and you didn’t think twice, your tiny feet carrying you away as fast as you could.

The Hunter’s lantern blinded you as he directed it straight at you, the only warning you got was the sound of the shotgun clicking back and the deafening sound of the shot missing you just narrowly. Trying to keep your wits about you, heaving out, and your bare feet full of cuts and bruises as they ran over the harsh, overgrown forest. You scarcely avoided the traps set by the Hunter through the forest, each blast from the gun the Hunter produced seeming to shake the Wilderness itself. Soon, you found yourself in a small shack, cornered. You managed to lock the door but not for long. Not for long. How long could prey last staring into the mouth—or shotgun of a hunter?