A streak of grey moved through the labyrinth-like alleyways of Semaine Street, the faint cries of crickets and frogs a backdrop to the fierce, angry shouts of the hooded men chasing him.
The streak in question was a small boy, around seven years old, with short but messy grey hair, wolf ears twitching with every sound, and a slightly burnt wolf tail trailing behind him. Scars riddled his small hands and exposed chest through his tattered clothes. His dark blue eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight as he moved with precision through the maze-like streets, his breath coming in ragged huffs.
