L ☓ ? ● ESC━ ❞
It isn't until the second howl that he's sure it's a pack and they're hungry. Recognizing animal calls, estimating their numbers, and hiding from them were some of the few skills living in the wild had taught him--forced him to learn with the fear of death as a consequence, and although Lu Han had thought his days in the forest were over, fate would have it that he'd been snowed in by what seemed like an endless snowstorm. The howls continue, each occurrence of the eerily distant sound only instilling fear within him. His hand digs into the pocket to allow his fingers to slide around the gun he carried, an old revolver he'd convinced Yifan of teaching him to use for the sake of survival.
The brunet feels foolish now after taking the trip to see the makeshift graves he'd made for the three members of his family, but an overwhelming homesickness had been brought on by the sudden holidays and visiting the pile of rocks seemed to be the only cure. He'd built three in all, piles that had surprisingly stayed generally intact other than a couple missing stones, but even the sight of that in his memory wasn't enough to cure him of the sudden trepidation that seeped into every movement. His limbs had already been moving slow as is from the cold that constantly threatened to suck all the warmth from his body through the useless layers of clothing he piled on. The man's breathing becomes labored after trying to jog, and even his steps become so apathetic that he falls to the ground, clambering to put his back to the nearest tree. The howling continues. Four, he thinks and ignores the hunger in their howls. It was obvious, but his mind had been busy trying to discern why the howls sounded so different. They didn't sound natural the way he was used to but structured exaggeratedly, as if man had somehow gotten their hands on them and--
"Aw fuck," he mutters loudly, a whine punctuating his sentence. Mutants.
He pulls out the gun, the metal of it seemingly colder than his surroundings. Lu Han looks up at the sky and tries to judge how much time was left until sun down, the color of the sky signaling a couple hours. Fighting them off and escaping was no trouble during the summer where he could easily duplicate his image to distract them, but with snow making him sink with each step, not to mention the way it robbed him of the necessary speed to make a getaway, it was impossible to face them alone. His hand reaches into his shirt and he pulls out the rosary around his neck. He presses his lips to the cross before they move in a silent prayer while his dark eyes shift around to scan the surroundings, looking for any type of movement that might signal the wolves' approaching. The rustle in the near bushes draws his attention, the revolver in his hand raised to point in that direction just a second after. It was too soon for a wolf to have reached him soon, but as his thumb pulls back the hammer and his other hand moves to steady his aim, Lu Han prepares for anything life might try to throw at him.