The forest was alive with the sounds of snapping branches and panicked breaths. Two figures—a boy and a girl, no older than fifteen—darted through the trees, their faces pale with terror. The boy clutched his sister's hand, dragging her along as they stumbled over roots and rocks. Behind them, the guttural growl of a werewolf echoed through the night, growing louder with every second.
"Faster, Mia!" the boy shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "It's gaining on us!"
Mia's legs burned, her lungs screaming for air, but she didn't dare slow down. The werewolf's snarls were too close, too real. She could almost feel its hot breath on the back of her neck. She risked a glance over her shoulder and immediately wished she hadn't. The beast was massive, its fur matted with blood, its yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. It lunged, its claws slashing through the air, narrowly missing her.