Hunter of Man

I saw it stand on the hill that night, moonlit in the middle of the clearing. It was a beast like no other. Even slouched it towered over smaller fir and other young trees.

Its head was that of a wolf with grey and brown fur cascading downward. The whole thing was covered with it, except for the claws - long, sharp claws at the end of long arms - and its eyes. Its eyes were yellow. Not golden but more sickly, almost a green color.

It saw me cowered behind that fallen trunk, and I swear it laughed at me, mocked me for falling to its trap. I don't know why it left, exactly. I thought it would kill me any second, but suddenly its head snapped up and everything just got quiet. Then it just turned away and...left.

It just left, and I was still breathing. You don't know how fast a man with a broken leg can run when he knows something like that is waiting if he stays.

—A story shared between a hunter and a scholar
in Northwest Nalidin