He ran, stumbling through branches and over debris and twig, frantically pumping his legs and ignoring the shortness of breath in his desperation to reach safety. His various cuts and bruises stung but it mattered not, so intent on reaching the next pack that he would have cut his own foot off if it meant getting there faster.
He paused, ears pricking and straining for the merest sounds, doubling over and greedily sucking in some air, chest heaving and sweat dripping off of him. His clothes were torn and ripped. There was nothing. For now it seemed his pursuers had given up, left him to fend for himself. He didn't know this territory, wasn't sure how far it was to the next pack, no access to food and water. He wasn't even sure if he had it in him to keep going. He'd been running for hour
