Hunted
"Let's get those damn trackers out of us."
We waited an extra day, just in case more came. The mountain remained eerily quiet, the snow undisturbed except for the tracks we had left behind. By the time the sun began to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows across the frozen ground, we were packing up and heading down.
The whole thing felt wrong. Orin. Jade. Werewolf hunters turning into what they hunted? All of it felt off. What was the point of it all?
The truck came into view, buried under a layer of snow, and I couldn’t have been happier to see it.
Bab Populer