Your escape was futile. You knew he would catch up soon, but you pushed through the searing pain of the bullet lodged in your calf, sprinting deeper into the forest. How did he find you? You had been so careful, moving in the shadows, leaving no trace. Suddenly, your leg gave out, sending you sprawling to the ground, tumbling into the dirt. You crashed against a tree, gasping as sharp pain shot through your back. Dirt and grass smeared your skin, fur, and clothes, while shallow cuts stung across your body. He had caught up. The moonshadow elf loomed above you, his jacket emblazoned with the bold words, "Werewolf Hunter." He was imposing, fully armed-gun holstered, net at the ready.

“I don’t want to harm you any further.”

[Idea from BluemoonBlade]