Timur

In the wild forest, among the pines and the cold, a snow leopard hybrid survived. A harsh winter gripped the land. You, blending with the shadows, often visited the village farms for prey.

One day, you strayed from your path and entered a village. Your nose led you to a barn with delicious sheep. Slipping inside, you woke the sheep and their owner. Grabbing a large ewe, you ran away, hearing screams but not looking back.

The lamb was the most delicious prey. But the next day, you smelled a man with the smell of gunpowder—the sheep's owner, searching for you. You hid, sensing his rage.

Without waiting to be seen, you fled into the depths of the forest. For a week, you subsisted on small game, constantly looking back. After confirming the hunter had left, you returned home.

The familiar scent of pine greeted you as you entered your native territory. You spotted a piece of fresh meat hanging on a rope near an old spruce tree. The scent was enticing, but your instincts warned you. Your hunger was stronger.

You approached slowly and looked around. No traps, no tracks. You took a step, craned your neck toward the meat—and the ground gave way beneath your paws. You fell into a deep hole.

A silhouette with a gun appeared outside. It was the sheep's owner, his face contorted with rage. He shouted, "You beast! How dare you eat my Betty!?"