Therianthropy: After Burdened

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The Hunter Becomes The Hunted: Chase

Right, then another right, or crap was it left, then right? Dang it how was I supposed to memorize where I was going like this!

“Get back here you bitch!” He crowed, dirt flying as he continued shooting at me “I’ll blow your brains out!”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to make me listen” I muttered to myself, taking a sharp turn left, to sharp.

My legs scattered beneath me, and I was suddenly on all fours and scrambling to get back to my feet. Small pebbles continued skittering past my lose grip as I clutched uselessly at the ground. My reflexes however were still on my side, so I didn’t actually go over. Instead I lay panting like an idiot for a few awful moments, then my pursuer was insights again.

Thankfully not for long, as he made the same mistake as I did, and his feet were set loose beneath him as well. The gun flew from his grip, and he nearly tackled into me in his mad haste to right himself. Not nearly as nimble as muah, he slide right over the side, flapping like a bird the whole way. Groaning, I sat up and glanced back over the side grimly, before taking to my feet cautiously. Ambling over to where the gun had fallen, I scooped it up and slipped it uncomfortably over my shoulder. Too bulky, the weight feeling more dangerous to me than my claws as it bumped across my back, but I kept a hand on the strap all the same. I started making my way back down, carefully watching each step as I more than suspected traps now; I also wasn’t foolish enough to think I’d escaped them all.

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