Bowman couldn’t help but think of wolves then. They could set ambushes for their prey, leading it right where they wanted it. Then, they could strike.
Bowman was the prey now. Prey of a thing big enough to crush him with a hand, and smart enough to lay a trap for him. He squirmed and writhed and only found himself more and more tangled as he did so. There was no escape, and those footsteps crashed closer.
Brothers Apart 