Theron
"What the hell happened son," my father urges after coming into view and seeing the wolfs claws got my side slightly, just enough to break the skin but not deep enough to need stitches.
"They caught me off guard two of them, it just a scratch. I'll live," I joke although I know in all honesty he doesn't care.
My father has a harem of women he had 15 male children with so he could train us and have his own little legion of hunters. Hunters are a dying breed. Some of us went bad and when the supernatural species caught wind of them experimenting on vampires, werewolves, fairies, etc they ended up hunting most of us down and killing us. The irony of the hunters being hunted themselves is not lost on me. My grandfather and my father were the last two to survive the m******e of our pe
