A hunter

James twisted as he fell to elbows, just in time to see a hunter, dressed in their heavy leather trenchcoat to spin around and meet and his gaze with equal confusion, "What in the blee-" before being cut off as huge white claw came across them, knocking their weapons out of their hands slamming their still body into the nearby carriage, nearly destroying it as well.
James' eyes came into focus as the wider scene revealed itself to him. Before him now was a large cleric beast. A terrible beast that occurs when a cleric falls to the bad blood. Large antlers spring from them, and their faces become horse like. Long shaggy white hair covers their form, which has grown to the size of small house. A beast of sinew and muscle it was known for its great ability to spring into the air, and size large enough to pick up a man in a single hand.
James' breath became hitched. He had seen the corpses from the growing scourge from Old Yarnam. Those fiends merely looked like overgrown simians. This beast was on another whole scale.
He blinked and more detail came into focus. The beast was wounded, bleeding heavily onto the cobblestones from several fresh wounds. Its white fur mattered with blood. But he could see the wounds closing before his eyes.
Beyond the beast was another hunter, wielding a trick axe at full extension, mid leap, wearing the signature heavy cloth and leather and face-covering collar of a hunter. Barely recognizable beneath the blood coating their hair and clothes.
Before he had any chance to react, the beast reeled as the axe landed in its back. The second hunter had struck true, lifting themselves with the **** of the blow, driving it across the back, splashing the hunter with a fresh spray of blood. Before they nimbly stepped back, clicking the trick axe into its shorted form, hefting a shotgun in the other hand and letting loose a haphazard shot.

"You'll pay for that beast!" cried the hunter in young woman's voice, strained in fury.
The smell of the blood quickened James' pulse. His mind cleared, becoming dangerously clear. That was his Catherine's voice. She was the hunter. Who was now facing this beast alone.
His body acting without thinking he began to crawl to the scattered weapons of the fallen hunter.
But his movements were too slow for the pace of combat. As he pulled himself on hands and knees, the beast roared and turned, swingingly wildly in the air where his love had just been.
She danced in and out of it's range. All her strikes too light to cripple the beast. Each lunge closer to adding a new mark to her perfectly imperfect face.
She had rolled under the beast, coming to a stop a few meters to the left of James.
"Get out of here you git. Hunter's buisn-" and again a hunter's sentence was left unfinished. This time by Catherine freezing when she saw what idiot civilian was seconds away from becoming collateral damage. "Jam-?" And a third sentence was interrupted as the beast lunged forward, not with a claw, but an all-too-human fist, concussing her back head over heels down the bridge.
James' blood boiled, rage overtaking fear, exhilaration, and confusion in one go.
He reached for his borrowed weapon.