Your heart is racing, your blood is cold in your veins. Dread fills your every sense as you can hear the thundering of hooves in the distance.

A mark is on your back, the Aeon of the Hunt with his eyes on your flesh. You feel like a piece of prey being tracked down by a famished wolf and one that would not give up easily.

After all, mortals were blood sport that Lan was more than pleased to indulge in.