|| @afhimr asked for it:
Perhaps it had been a mistake to come to Ireland after all. He knew the peoples here were usually a bit more lenient towards creatures in general (Great Britain had been well known for its myths after all). However, every single time, he found the middle-easterners to always be the ones to just leave him be, throw food at him, and then all was well. He didn’t bother them and they didn’t bother him. It had been a simple life as they knew what kind of creature he was.
Here, in Ireland, in the dark and wide woods, he was being chased by hunters, the kind of hunters one could find everywhere, in all shapes and sizes. He despised it. He was seen as a werewolf, but rarely did a Westerner know of his kind, nor did he know he actually fought on the side of the angels to allow humans to settle on earth, whereas the Djinns (or Genies) refused the humans altogether.
Running as fast as he could, he sped through the woods, animals here and there pointing in a direction that could mean a safe haven for him. Someone lived at the edge, a squirrel spoke, a kind elf, a deer revealed.
And so Adnan sniffed out the different smells, found the one he needed and ran towards the supposed safe haven.... however, not before a hunter actually managed to shoot him.
Of course, since they most likely knew they were dealing with a supernatural creature, they had used special bullets, the blood quickly leaving his body, Adnan barely managing to hop his way towards the house, whimpers leaving his mouth as he attempted to pat on the door with his wounded paw.
