A little bit from the point of view of the wolf:

There was another smell, this one also familiar, but not wolf. Known, but not family. It smelled of meat and fear and blood, and Levi drew in a long breath, savoring it and the anticipation of the chase. He swung his head back and forth, judging the direction the odor was coming from, then set off towards the house at a run.

It wasn’t long before his prey came into sight, pale skin almost glowing under the light of the full moon. It ran and stumbled—obviously it couldn’t see as well as he did. What did you expect from prey? He barked his excitement and heard his packmate close behind him. That was good; wolves were meant to hunt together.

The prey glanced behind and saw them. It made a loud noise and began running faster, but it was so much slower than Levi. He caught up to it with hardly any effort at all, his long legs eating up the ground between them.

Funny how strange I am after I write these bits…