Grass crunched softly beneath your paws as you moved through the trees of Weeping Woods, ears twitching at every rustle. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in silver streaks, painting the trees in ghostly light.

But then you caught a scent — leather, gunpower — danger. Your nostrils flare as you slow in your tracks. It’s a human; an average-sized dark-skinned woman wearing gear that’d make you think she got lost going to a Halloween party.

Yet she’s anything but... And you know for sure because you’ve see her everywhere. Calamity. The quickest drawer around, the best sheriff in town, the vigilante who seeks monster blood.

As she approaches, your instincts scream at you to run, hide. But then she stopped, her black hat tilting up to reveal her gorgeous face.

“Well now,” she murmured into the air, southern accent smooth as the fretting on her cowgirl hat. “Aren’t you a pretty beast?” Her fingers brushed the grip of her revolver, not drawing it... yet.

You are prey.