The young boy raced through the woods, like the very fires of h*ll were at his heels. He knew he had to get away from them, but it was extremely difficult. He couldn't climb trees and he knew no ways of disguising his scent. The blonde haired boy heard sharp cries and long drawn out howls. He raced on and on, until he tripped on a tree root and fell down a hill. He came to a crashing stop and lay there, covered in blood and gasping for breath. He wondered whether the humans or the dogs would find him first. Then he passed out cold, having lost so much blood. As it turned out, the dogs found him first. They sent out their long howls and the huntes soon appeared. One of them, a tall fellow with bristly red hair and tanned skin, nudged the boy with his foot. There was no movement. "Dead." he said. "He can't be dead." someone called. "Are you questioning me?" the red-haired adult questioned of the one who spoken. He whipped out a blade and flash, blood was everywhere. "Anyone else?" When there was no answer, he smiled. "Good. Now dispose of this body." He spun around and walked off, not ever looking back.