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Summary
There was nothing he could about it except make this less painful for himself. He shifted into his wolf form, a sign of defeat on his side.
"You accepted your fate? Good boy, get the crossbo—"
The leader's neck was ripped out by a blob of darkness too fast for anyone to catch their eye on. The only thing left of the hunters' leader was the blood profusely pooling out of his neck.
"What the fuck!"