I ran out to the front and was met with battles everywhere. This was different from the previous attacks. There were ferals, but the way they attacked was much more organized. The more agile shifters were out front and attacking as the vanguard, while larger creatures defended them. Amidst this, I saw glints of metal in the treeline. Obviously where the bullets had originated from. I let out a furious growl, the image of Cyrus’ hand coming to mind. The tattered edges of skin and muscle helping to dye his skin red. I shifted; my clothes tearing apart. As I ran towards the treeline, a flash of silver shot past...