Wind whistled through the treetops, creating a shifting pattern of shadows dancing across the moonlit forest. The air hung heavy and oppressive, threatening to snuff out what little light drifted past the cloud-cover and branches. The stranger scanned the horizon carefully. He knew he was being followed, hunted, but whatever or whoever his pursuer was, it had decided not to make its move just yet. He cautiously stepped forward, fearing if that he did not move soon he would remain here, frozen with uncertainty, for the rest of the night. A wailing, pained cry tore across the night sky, echoing through the entire forest. The stranger’s head swiveled in one smooth motion, snapping to attention. He scanned for the source of the cry. His panicked search was broken by more cries, this time from all around him. Was it ten, maybe twenty voices. Wolves, maybe? He removed his pistol from its holster and shakily raised it in front of him. Rustling from behind him caught his attention. He swiveled towards it, ready for whatever would be lurking at the edges of the clearing.