The full moon, a luminous pearl in the velvet sky, bore silent witness to my desperate flight. Each desperate gasp for air was a curse against its revealing light, a traitor in the dense forest. I leapt over a gnarled root, my boot catching on slick moss, sending me sprawling. A pained grunt escaped my lips, quickly stifled as I rolled, springing back to my feet. The rhythmic thunder of hooves grew louder, accompanied by the guttural shouts of my pursuers.

My lungs burned, and tears stung my eyes, but I pushed on, a singular, electrifying pull guiding my every step. It was a sensation I'd never known, a magnetic force drawing me deeper into the woods, promising something, anything, beyond the relentless pursuit. Exhaustion clawed at me, my legs screaming in protest. With a final, despairing cry, I burst into a small clearing, collapsing onto my hands and knees. This was it. The end of my secluded life.

Then, a low, primal growl rumbled from above. My blood ran cold. Slowly, I lifted my gaze. Standing before me, only steps away, was an enormous wolf, its fur the color of deepest night, its eyes twin pools of iridescent silver, reflecting the moon's magical glow. They were narrowed, fixed on me. Death, I thought, had finally found me. Yet, a foolish, irresistible urge stirred within me: to reach out and touch it.