Note to self: Never leave the city lights behind for a "quiet hunt." The woods aren't quiet—they're just full of things that want to hurt you. Between the scent of those damn human hunters and now a metal tooth clamped onto my leg, tonight is officially a disaster. 🩸
I don't even care about the pain anymore, I just need to get out of here before something—or someone—finds me. Why does it always feel like the moment I try to find peace, the universe tries to snap me in half? Literally.