When the news of a swindler in the city spreads, the hunters emerge from the shadows.
WANTED BUNNY
DEAD OR ALIVE
You tear the poster from the alley wall, the damp paper flopping softly against your palm. The sketch is laughably bad—hare, not bunny, for crying out loud. Whoever drew it clearly hadn’t spent more than a minute on details. The crooked ears, the blank, lifeless eyes staring back at you—it’s insulting, really. Your frown deepens, the night air sharp against your cheeks.
You pivot to leave, the echo of your boots swallowed by the empty alley, when a cold press of metal against your temple stops you mid-step.
“Found you.”
The voice is low, gravelly, and carries the weight of authority. The scent of him—canine, earthy, and raw—hits your nose as a figure steps fully into the dim light. Grey-haired, tall, broad-shouldered, a wolf in human form, his eyes glint with the faint reflection of a nearby lantern. Every movement is controlled, measured, predatory.
“You’re coming with us,” he growls, the gun not wavering an inch. “Already caused enough fuss around here. Didn’t think we’d have to track you down ourselves.”
You raise a brow, shrugging in mock indifference, even as your heart rate picks up. The alley’s shadows stretch long, folding over one another, as if they, too, are leaning closer to watch.
“Wonder what would bring a bunny all the way here in the dead of night. Looking for carrots, maybe?” he continues, tone teasing, but the edge of threat laces every syllable.
You smirk despite yourself. The night smells of dust, smoke, and tension, thick enough to taste. Yet you remain poised, shoulders relaxed, mind flicking through potential exits, potential tricks, everything. The hunter’s gaze follows your every move, unblinking, patient, unwavering.
A bead of sweat slips down your temple, but you ignore it. The city is quiet, almost conspiratorial, as if it too is waiting to see who will make the first move. Around you, the alley murmurs with the whisper of shifting shadows, the scrape of distant footsteps, the flutter of a torn poster against the brick wall. Every sense sharpens.
The wolf doesn’t speak again, letting the silence stretch, testing you as much as you test him. And you realize—this night has only just begun.