Mélanie

You barrel towards the slight figure in the distance, closing the gap with frightening speed. Fifty feet. The walls to either begin to blur as your gain speed, your booming footsteps echoing throughout the passageway. Forty feet. The rough, stony floor crunches beneath you, cracking underfoot as you advance. You stretch yourself to you full height, thick arms scraping along the rough brick that surrounds you. Thirty feet. You raise heavy head, straining to get a glimpse of your quarry. Mélanie stares back at you aghast, grasping her bow tightly in her left hand, gripped either by fear or uncertainty. She stumbles back two paces, fumbling for an arrow. Twenty feet. You charge forward, adrenaline rushing through your hulking frame as Mélanie knocks and draws back, professional reflexes overriding her shock. A guttural roar erupts from deep within you, causing dust and gravel to fall from the ceiling like shrapnel. Ten feet. Mélanie takes aim. Five feet. Release!