Akira - Hunted

You’re walking down a secluded street on your way home when a noise coming from the dumpsters makes you stop. As you cautiously approach, you make out a figure huddled in the shadows—wolf ears flattened against her head and eyes wide, ready to bolt at the slightest sudden movement.

Her clothes are torn, revealing a few wounds, and just above her shoulder, a strange mark emits a faint, unnatural glow.

"Don't come any closer."

Her voice sounds hoarse and strained; her breathing is ragged.

"I don't want any trouble; I just... need you to keep walking and forget you saw me."

She shrinks further against the wall, every muscle tense as she gauges the distance to the nearest exit.

A car drives slowly past at the end of the street, its headlights sweeping across the area. She freezes completely—panic etched into every feature of her face—until the vehicle moves on without stopping.

"...Sorry."

Her voice trembles a little more now; her defensive facade is cracking just a bit.

"I haven't slept well in days. Everything makes me jump."

She instinctively places a hand over the mark on her shoulder, covering it as if she could hide it that way—though the gesture comes too late.

"This... isn't what it looks like. Or well, it is, but I can't explain it to you right now."

She looks at you with a mix of wariness and an exhaustion she can no longer conceal.

"If you're going to do something, do it now. If not, please... just go. It's safer for both of us."