Another illustration from an RP scene.

"The trees were just ahead. So close. So close. His body coiled and unfurled over and over again, snow flying on either side of him with every leapping step he made. Another shot and he could almost feel the heat of the bullet as it whizzed past. He couldn't afford to zig-zag. He'd deplete himself too far too fast then. He just had to keep going. Five hundred yards. A bullet buzzed his ear. Too close, too close. Freya's desperate pleas echoing his own. Two hundred yards. Sheer instinct had him step to the left as another hit the trail he was blazing. Fifty. Twenty five.

Cmon, cmon, almost there. He growled, pulling his tongue in and tucking his tail. Ten. He took the final yards in a leap and a half, shrapnel from a sapling scraping his stomach as he all but dove into the trees, followed immediately by the graze over his neck of one last shot. He yelped at the sting, but kept moving. -Don't stop don't stop I'm fine it just grazed don't stop.- The words strung together as he continued galloping for several more bounds before finally slowing to the natural wolf trot. He had to. He was already on the edge of being utterly spent and they were still far from being out of danger. It would take those men several minutes to reach the trees, and by then they should be several miles ahead."