Jim quickly tries to, and does run a few yards, but one of the mob shoots him in the leg and he returns to his previous form as he falls.

Angela hears gunshots and turns back to Jim. She simply howls as she can’t yell as a wolf. “Go on! I don’t know if I can get back up!” Jim shouts this as he applies pressure on his leg with his torn pants.

He tries repeatedly to get up but his leg just won’t move then he sees Angela run away again with a tear in her eye. “We got one,” a man, who stood above Jim, yelled at the rest of the mob.

Angela was soon out of sight and they all surrounded me. “Since we ainʼt got both let’s take care of this one,” their, apparent, leader says.

Jim gulps, “Get away from me!” He then tries to drag himself away.

“Itʼs still movinʼ!” Soon, the others hold Jim down and several even hold his muzzle shut. “Good, folk, what should we do to this one.

Someone shouts ‘hang it!’, one said ‘shoot its brains out’, several even ‘skin it!’ and other torturous things, but the consensus was to burn Jim at the stake. They carried me to the town square where, for some stupid reason, there was still a place for public executions. Jim was tied up completely, muzzle shut and arms and legs to the post.

Some idiot tossed kerosene and then a match into the pit under Jim. He managed to light the fire and himself but nobody cared, just leaving him to run around screaming. Everyone was busy watching Jim burn and they were also praying. Something about fire and fury as they tossed rocks at Jim.