By the time Karim regained his urge to survive, he could only barely see the Giza plateau in the moon's light. He stopped abruptly, weighing his options. His first option was to continue heading away from civilization, and quite possibly to his death, which he had hoped would spare Cairo from the fury of the werewolf. His second option was to turn around and return to Cairo before the desert killed him, and entrust his survival with his ability to restrain the wolf inside. Karim shook his head and mumbled to himself, taking another slurp of the wine he had more or less stolen from Nayla's home. The numbing effect mimicked a warming from the inside of his body, and for this Karim was thankful. His full knowledge of how intoxication made it more likely for him to lose control was the last thing on his mind. He needed the wine too badly to care.
The only sound Karim could hear was the brutal gusts of Sahara wind, and the only thing he could feel was the biting cold and the vague sensation of flying sand against his skin. A chorus of barking broke the relative calm of the desert road, causing Karim to jerk his sight upwards. The sight that greeted him was that of a pair of mangy, apparently ill fed tracking dogs charging towards him. A storm of hooves followed behind the hounds, a pack of seven horse mounted riders bearing down on the werewolf. Karim staggered backwards reflexively, squinting in the dim moonlight to see the riders better. Down to the last, they brandished bolt action rifles and repeating revolvers, all of which quickly became fixated on Karim. Before he could turn around to run, Karim recognized the face of the widow who seemed to be leading the charge.
Riding in front of the rest of the hunters, Nayla raised a revolver loaded with silver rounds at Karim. Behind her were six of the few remaining warriors of the House of the Blessed Hunters. They were all strong, proud men, none of whom were particularly happy to be following the orders of a woman. But they had their orders, and every one of them was too proud to flee from a monster a tired old woman, was willing to charge headfirst at. This was precisely the effect their superiors had intended by recruiting a woman, and thus far it had been a wise decision.
"Surround it! In God's name!" the widow shouted to the other hunters, firing with an unsteady hand at Karim. The bullet missed its intended target, but the beat skipped in his heart brought Karim to the realization of not only the riders' intentions, but also of the deadly silvered arms they carried. He took off running as fast as he could, paying minimal attention to containing the wolf within as he began to fear for his life. A trio of hunters pushed their horses to speed up and position themselves to get in Karim's path and prevent his escape. Another bullet was fired, this one fired by a trained soldier. The silver bullet grazed Karim's flesh, causing him to scream as he continued to run.
As the hunters moved to intercept him, Karim scrambled away from the swiftly closing trap. The fear, pain, and desperation were not content to simply trigger the vagrant's fight or flight instincts. Every length Karim ran in his panic brought another change to his flesh. Vicious claws emerged from the flesh in his hands, his pace quickened, while his hair grew ever longer and more wild. Unknown to Karim, who was too lost in his panic and frenzied run for safety, he had begun the transformation into a monster. The blood of the werewolf surged through his veins like a bolt of lightning, creating the most wondrous sensation of primal release. In succumbing and becoming a werewolf, Karim cast aside the chains of civilization and morality; precisely why the hunters were so eager to slay him.
An over zealous hunter drove his mount directly into Karim's path alone, leveling his rifle at the werewolf. Even when the other hunters shouted for their comrade to pull back, he clutched on the gun's trigger, his bullet passing just past the monster's skull. The only heed the monster paid to the man was a swing of his claw before a shot could be fired, rending the man's flesh apart. The scent of warm blood filled Karim's nose, and he followed his slashing by sinking his fangs into the human hunter's neck and jerking his head away immediately afterwards.
When the transformation into the monstrous werewolf was completed, the horses panicked, threatening to throw their riders off. Karim tore through the assembled hunters like a brutal, savage wind. He made a sudden about face amid a rain of flying silver bullets, turning around and running directly at his foes, moving too swiftly to be hit. Lifting and dragging his clawed hands behind him, he raked his claws across the chest of one hunter as he dived towards another, putting his claws in front of him as he made contact with the hunter. The warrior shrieked with pain as the monster's fanged muzzle grappled his throat, his dying scream cut off abruptly.
Another shot rang out across the silent, blood stained sands, and a silver bullet ripped through the werewolf's leg. The monster howled with pain, and grabbed the fallen hunter and his still living and frightened horse with his wickedly powerful arms. He hefted the corpse and horse off the ground and hurled both into the direction the shot had come from with a hateful snarl. Mount and dead rider fell upon his aggressor, knocking another hunter down and crushed beneath the weight of the horse. The confusion created by his mayhem seemed curious to the werewolf; had he been able to codify his thoughts in words, Karim would have wondered why these monkeys allowed themselves to lose their instincts at a time like this, for they could have surely slain him by now if they listened to the beasts they had within and fought back. But grinning a cruel wolfen smirk, the werewolf used the rampant chaos to his advantage and make another charge.
He ran to strike at Nayla, the obvious leader of the enemy pack, charging heedless back into the fray. The middle aged widow only raised her gun hastily and fired a shot into Karim's shoulder. The werewolf howled again, staggering backwards from the force of the impact and the searing pain. Scrambling backwards, the creature shifted from moving on two legs to running on all fours.
"Keep your distance!" Nayla screamed at the other hunters, spurring her horse to put space between herself and the demon she sought to kill. The other hunters likewise did the same, readying their guns for another volley of shooting. Furious but wounded, the werewolf turned around and resumed fleeing from the hunters. One round of silver after the other was absorbed by the seemingly endless dunes as the remaining hunters shouted and cursed behind him. The werewolf, seeking short sighted safety, dashed past the hunters as though gliding on the shadows cast by the dunes of the desert. Karim ran frantically towards the city of Cairo as a werewolf, driven by fear and the most primal urges to survive. Whether or not the city could survive him was another matter entirely. But the wolf didn't care. All the wolf cared about was living to see another moon.