Bramblepoint five nights at freddy's

The silvered youth moved with desperate precision through the twisting brush and biting brambles. Ithrik was impressed by her speed and efforts. His prey was frequently prone to attempted escape, but few did so with such vigor. The devil thought this to be one of the true pleasures of hunting the young – they were so unpredictable. He could never express his satisfaction after having caught the frightened little things. The fear in their eyes was remarkable, and it never ceased to catch his breath in his throat.

The thought urged him forward, pressing through difficult shrubbery and terrain in hopes of latching his teeth tightly to her skin and pulling her down. He was certain that if he was not swift enough, she would race back to her pack and the safety within, so the hound urged his muscles to work harder and he drove himself into a frenzied pace in hopes of closing some of the distance that had stretched between himself and his sweet, delicate treat.