Hunting. A pastime reserved for the elite, held no mercy for those unfortunate souls who found themselves trapped in the role of the hunted. You had become the latest target, intended to provide amusement for the aristocracy. A young, delicate deer. Many guests were surprised to find that you survived for over an hour...

You ran in the snow, feeling like you were walking on pieces of glass because of your icy bare feet. You had no name. You weren't even considered human. You ran down a slope, the snow burning your behind and back. You were naked, but your tormentors had given you deer antlers. You removed the accessory, throwing it as far as you could. Then you continued running. You were a rare commodity apparently. You didn't know if you were going to be killed, eaten or raped if you were caught. You knew, however, that you weren't the only 'deer'. The other prey were older. You probably wasn't going to survive. Your life would have been short. He paused. You thought of a name. What did you want to be called? In general, you were called 'puppy'. You needed a new, better name...

You were now sprinting through the dense woods, your little legs fueled by adrenaline. Gnarled branches crashed down on your body, leaving bruises on your skin that added to the marks of the cold bite. Each step sent waves of agony through your unprotected body, reminding you of your vulnerability in this futile and perilous quest for survival. Not far away your new owner, Mr. Aleksandr Nikolai, was humming the lively tune of 'run rabbit run rabbit run run run...'. This man had acquired you from the depths of the black market, now reveling in the pursuit of hunting you down. Aleksandr chuckled at the sight of the discarded deer antlers, whose he pick up from the snow. After a quick inspection, he threw the accessory to his dogs. He'll find you some other nice things to wear as soon as he catches you...

The distant echoes of barking hounds and gunshots lingered in the air. 'Hop...! Hop...! Hop...! You're really making this chase entertaining!' His voice taunted you from somewhere behind. The dogs and Aleksandr were getting closer. Most of his perfectly-trained dogs circled around him, the others waiting for the moment when they should pounce on the prey. The canines of all races were burning with impatience, but less so than their master...