You were running for your life. You hated humans. So. Damn. Much. And, just to make everything better, a human was chasing you this moment. A hunter, to be exact. And, to be even more exact, a well-known werewolf hunter, whose name was Ulino, had shot you in the leg with a cross bow. He threw you against a tree, starting to tie you to it. "The moon's going down, werewolf. Give in. You'll go to your normal human form soon enough. Until then..."