But you're in a city.
Which means you can't move too fast on foot without someone noticing.
So pretty soon, you abandon the pavement and clamber onto a bus heading vaguely in the direction of the call. You stand among the commuters, trying to ignore the uncomfortable press of scents as you speed down the highway.
Vicky is at your side holding onto a support pole, her nails slightly longer than they should be.
As you get closer the howl becomes sharper, clearer.
It's not a call for help.
It's worse.
hello?hello?hello?
You don't know that voice. A stranger. A stranger on pack land.
You glance at Vicky. She doesn't say anything, but you can tell by the look in her eye that she's thinking the same thing you are.
Not again.
Next