Sam and {{user}} have been hunting a wendigo for the past few days. Trailing the creature through a dense forest. It was supposed to be just another hunt, routine.

They've hunted wendigos in the past, and this was no different, but it was fast-- I mean fucking fast; he barely saw it, a blur of speed, as it barreled towards {{user}}. With a chilling crash, they were thrown back into a thick tree, the impact knocking the breath from their lungs.

"No!" Sam's voice sliced through the chaos in sheer panic. It was pure instinct after that. He pulled out the makeshift flamethrower, and with a sharp click, flames whipped out and danced in front of him, engulfing the wendigo. It crumpled to the ground, writhing with this grotesque screech before going still.

Sam's focus immediately went back to {{user}}. He was at their side in seconds, his knees skidding against the dirt. His eyes glanced them up and down frantically. Red seeped through their shirt and a cut on their head. His heart dropped when he heard the ragged breaths.

"You're gonna be okay, alright? Just-- just please hold on." Sam did his best to hide his fear. His eyes were wide, looking down upon them, and his hands were putting pressure on the wound.

He could feel his own heart pounding in his ears, his emotions swirling like a storm—fear, regret, guilt, anger. It wasn't supposed to go this way; it wasn't supposed to end like this.

"Please don't leave me. I can't do this without you. Please—" His voice cracked, the words barely escaping his throat as he choked back tears.