A lone figure streaked through the woodland, closely persued by a group of armed men on horseback. They bore the insignia of a nearby town who's trade routes ran through this part of the forest. Recently it had suffered several assaults made by thieves and bandits and had lost a lot of its trade. Now starving and desperate the inhabitants were eating anything that lived. Horses were the first to go, with dogs and other livestock. Only a few retained their dignity, these men, the "Swiftspear's" as they called themselves went out hunts to try and aleviate the hunger gnawing at the villagers.

These men, the Swiftspears, charged across the forest floor, hunting down what they thought was an exotic bull, but in reality was a Minotaur.

"Net him Jarles" One of the mounted men yelled.

In response one of the others, shorter than the rest with a large beard drew a net and took aim. As he drew his arm back to throw the tangled mess of ropes and weights the Minotaur disappeared from view. In its place there was a Lynx. It sped away, dodging in and out of the trees trying to evade capture by the men.

Just as the Shape-changer was safe from one threat a shadow caught his attention stretched out along the undergrowth.