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chasseurdeloup · 1 month ago

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: The cabin PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Kaden (@chasseurdeloup) SUMMARY: Monty has something important to ask Kaden. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

—

Of course when Kaden saw him sitting on the porch like that, as if his legs had just given out from under him moments ago (though it had been hours), the man practically threw himself out of his truck, barely taking enough time to turn it off before the door was slamming shut and his feet were carrying him swiftly around the bed and up the steps to where Monty was crumpled over on himself. Whatever was said on the approach and after those hands came to offer comfort and security rolled over Monty like the waves of the lake that lay deeper in the woods. He’d been silent and still for a while now, but finding himself exposed like a nerve to cold air as Kaden worried over him, that fear and guilt and anger all returned, ripping open the wound and working him up again. This time he didn’t try to stop or muffle it, sucking in a shaky breath and just letting it happen. His lithe frame wrapped itself around Kaden, arms clinging to him like the life raft he was.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, ashamed to have let someone like Hector get to him like this. “I need—we need…” He choked on his own words, not wanting to sound like the man that had left him here on this porch, not wanting to tell Kaden what he needed or wanted. He needed to ask. Fighting to find his voice again, Monty allowed some space to form between them again so he could look at him, arms pulling back to his own chest, tangling there like they might protect him from the bite of such a big request.

There was a long pause as he built up the courage for it, but he held the other’s gaze, his vision remaining blurry as he tried to blink away the tears.

“... can we leave? This… this place. This town. Just you and me, and the animals. I… I can’t… I think I need to be somewhere else.”

—

There was a lump on the porch that Kaden couldn’t quite make out as he turned into the driveway. His brows furrowed and it was hard to not let his heartbeat run away with him once he realized that lump was Monty. Launching himself out of the truck, He nearly forgot to put it in park. “Hey, what happened? Are you okay? What is it?” He asked what felt like a dozen questions as he crouched down, cupping his partner’s face in his hands and checking over him for any physical damage. Right, stupid, there was no point in looking for that. Any of that would heal damn near instantly. This was something else.

The crease between his nose deepened once Monty finally spoke. Apologizing. Why was he apologizing? What was he apologizing for? Kaden was certain that, whatever it was, it didn’t warrant forgiveness. It was unlikely that the cowboy had done anything wrong in the first place. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said, pulling his partner closer to him, waiting until he was the one to pull away from Kaden.

The silence sitting between them felt like it was expanding, pushing outward until it was pressing on his chest, making it tighter and harder to breathe.

He knew whatever followed would be a big question, something that was hard to say aloud, but Kaden hadn’t quite expected those words in particular. His own silence followed as he tried to process the question.

Can we leave? A simple question laced with so much more. Leaving Wicked’s Rest. It had crossed his mind more than once, but there had been Alex and Andy. Then there was Monty and the farm. And then there was Mack and Cass. They all kept him here, tied him to this town.

But now Monty was the only thing left. And he didn’t want to be here. Kaden couldn’t blame him. He looked back at the cabin, the safe haven he held onto in case Alex needed it or needed him. It didn’t have to be here, though. Maybe it shouldn’t be here.

He brushed the tears away that he could with his thumb as he turned back to look at his partner. It was a simple question with a surprisingly simple answer. “We can do that.” It was hard not to smile a little at the thought of leaving this place behind. The distress coated over Monty was still there. There was a reason he was asking this and asking it now. It finally occurred to Kaden that they were alone there, that a name had been left out of Monty’s list before. “What about Hector?”

—

He wasn’t sure what kind of an answer he’d expected. There wasn’t much tying Kaden to this place — many of the people they’d cared for had left, or… and it wasn’t like this was home for Kaden. He’d come here out of necessity, or maybe obligation, but those things were no longer tying him down. Monty couldn’t say he’d anticipated such an easy ‘yes’, but he was quietly grateful for it.

Of course, there was the question of Hector.

It shouldn’t have caught him off guard, but it did. His breath hitched in his throat and he shook his head, trying to decide how much to say. Honesty, he figured, would be the best policy in this situation.

“No, he — he is —” Monty drew in a breath to steady himself, feeling stupid for having fallen into this trap in the first place. When would he learn? Was that what telling Hector off had been? A lesson? It felt like too little too late, if his current state was anything to go by. “You… were right to have felt unsure about him. He, ah…” A hand came up to grasp weakly at Kaden’s wrist, squeezing for comfort in place of actually being able to make eye contact. “He wanted me to leave you. He wanted… the life we used to have. He’s trying to get that back.” Another sob was trying to claw its way out as Monty was forced to reckon with what that actually meant — what his life had actually been like back then, and who he had really been, as a person. He’d been stupid and cruel, never himself, only who Hector wanted him to be. Only what served their family the best, not who he knew he should have been. He’d never been good, just obedient. “I don’t want it,” Monty groaned, tripping over his own tongue. “I told him to leave. I—I’m—”

Hector had started to show the truth of his intentions over the last few weeks, but Monty had been too blind to see it. Or perhaps he’d simply closed his eyes, wanting more than anything for this to be a version of the man he’d once loved that he could keep in his life. He knew Hector was right about one thing — one day Kaden would die, and Monty would be alone. He’d hoped that he could turn to his friend, then, but… but not like that. Not acting as his lap dog, not again. “I’m sorry,” the man squeaked out again, the agony of experiencing this loss a second time wrenching the words painfully from his throat. “I should have seen it. I should have known he had not changed. He was saying things, treating me like — like he used to. I should have seen it. I just… I wanted it to be different this time.”

—

The longer that Monty paused and stuttered, the more concern covered Kaden. He’d been wary of Hector from the moment he stepped foot back in his partner’s life. The timing of his return was suspicious and introduced more questions than answers. Kaden didn’t like it, didn’t trust him, but he wasn’t going to wedge himself between Monty and his best friend— or whatever it was the outlaw was to the farmer. Even then, it was unexpected to hear from Monty that the man wasn’t who he thought.

There was a sense of relief that washed over him upon learning that Hector was out of their life, at least for now. It was interrupted by a stab of guilt when that was his first reaction. Kaden wanted to be supportive, to see the best in the other man, but there was always something off there. “I didn’t want to be right,” he told his partner. Monty was dodging any attempts he made to make eye contact. That was fine. Instead of meeting his gaze, Kaden settled on the floor enough to pull his partner into an embrace. The hug wouldn’t erase the pain, no matter how hard the hunter squeezed, he knew that much. All he could do was try to soothe some of it.

He hadn’t even begun to process that Hector had asked Monty to leave Kaden behind, not until he had his arms around the cowboy. It was a damn good thing he was wrapped tightly around his partner because Kaden could feel the rage start to seep in. If his hands were free, he might have taken the time to find Hector and use those hands to deck him. A few times, even. He didn’t even care that the man had insulted him, insinuated that he wasn’t good enough for Monty or whatever the fuck was in his head. Kaden may have even agreed with him in some respect but how fucking dare he walk back into Monty’s life just to use him. Again. To try and steal away his autonomy and ruin his life all for the outlaw’s own goddamn benefit. So yeah, it was better for everyone that his arms were wrapped around his partner, holding him steady, instead of dealing out violence to the source of his pain.

“Hey,” he interrupted as soon as Monty started apologizing. “Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for, got it? You didn’t do this. You’re not the one who needs to apologize.” He wanted to steady his partner’s shaking, steal away the sobs, but the best he could do was simply hold him. “I’m sorry he did this. I’m sorry I didn’t…” Kaden wasn’t sure if he should have intervened earlier, if he should have wrenched Hector’s true intentions from him the second he walked up to the cabin. Probably not. There was no scenario where Monty didn’t get hurt, not so far as Kaden could see. It only solidified his anger. “He probably won’t ever fucking say it but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mon coeur. You deserve better than this.”

—

Monty wasn’t sure if he agreed that he deserved better, but he knew that was the voice of the version of him that’d always been happily trapped underneath Hector’s thumb. How different it had all seemed from his new perspective: living a life that certainly had its challenges (the stink of burning hay and corpses never seemed to have left his nose), but had at least shown him what it was like to be respected, and to have his affection reciprocated. He didn’t have to throw himself down to the ground for Kaden to walk upon, and the hunter had never asked anything like that of him. He never would, Monty knew. He was good, kind, and gentle. He was all of the things that Hector had never been, and could likely never be.

But enough of him.

Holding Kaden tightly, Monty let his gaze focus somewhere over his shoulder, deep in the trees. “We both do,” he breathed. It wasn’t until he felt that he’d regained some of his composure that he finally pulled back, framing Kaden’s face in his hands. “This place is a poison, mi corazón. And it’s… it seems like it is dying. I don’t want to stay and find out what happens the next time something terrible emerges from the ground.” The overcast sky rumbled in response, a strong wind kicking up around them and blowing dead leaves in every direction. It was only a second later that the rain started, pattering against the roof of the cabin and its deck. Monty let his gaze wander over to the pen where the animals were and shook his head. They had plenty of money to move away from here, Mack had seen to that. Maybe they’d come back some day, if it ever seemed like a safer place to live. Monty wasn’t sure of anything other than the fact that he needed to get away from Hector and whatever he was planning.

“I will need to… write some letters, I think. But the sooner we are able to get on the road, the better.”

—

This place is a poison. The skies opened up just in time to cement that statement. Wicked’s Rest had been many things. An escape, a refuge, a new start, and a home. It had also been full of death, loss, and suffering.

watched the rain crash onto the dry leaves and grass in the yard just beyond the cover of the porch, absentmindedly running a hand through Monty’s hair as he took it all in.

The cabin had been Andy and Alex’s. The farm had been Monty’s. Kaden was invited into both, found home in both of them but at the end of the day, neither had felt like his. This wasn’t how he expected this to happen, a result of a cascade of tragedies and hardships, but he felt a spark of hope in his chest. This was a chance for them to find a home together, something that was theirs. Something away from the ashes and scars that covered Wicked’s Rest.

As easy as it was to feel like there was nothing he was leaving behind, Kaden knew better. He knew it was easier to look ahead than behind and the impulse to start throwing things into the back of the truck was almost too strong to ignore. Monty was right though. It was worth writing some letters, saying a handful of goodbyes. Loose ends worth tying up. “Me, too,” he said with a sigh. “Might see if I can find any last stragglers before we go.” Kaden nodded towards the animals. “Make sure we have enough supplies for them, too.” Not that he knew how far they planned to go. There was something exciting about that, though and he found himself biting back a hint of a smile, even more so when he looked back down at Monty. “You know,” he started, settling against his partner as they were folded up on the porch. They could head inside, sure, but it felt like breaking the seal, like it could take away from the moment. “We can go anywhere we want. Heard this is a pretty big country.” Kaden couldn’t contain his smile now. “Want to head somewhere warm?”

—

The thought of where they would go hadn’t really crossed Monty’s mind, either. But as Kaden said it, settling in beside him and suggesting somewhere warm, Monty felt the heaviness in his heart lessen just a little. The frustration and aching sadness he felt watching the cold, grey rain soak the world beyond the porch gave way to something lighter as he turned his head to look up at Kaden, seeing the almost whimsical smile that brightened his eyes and finding it impossible not to reflect the same emotion right back at him.

“Sí, yes, absolutely,” he sighed in relief. “I would give anything to see mesas again.” He was much more suited for a desert than he was the damp, stormy climate that surrounded them now, and if Kaden was offering… They could start looking immediately. Find some kind of homestead that worked for them, pay for it up front, and get on the road. It was doable, between the money Daisy had been setting aside and the money Mack had given them.

Hector might have gotten the wealth he wanted if only he’d treat people right, Monty thought, bitterly amused at the idea. But that was neither here nor there. He wouldn’t keep lingering on it, wouldn’t let it drag him down any more than it already had. They were free of him, and they’d shortly be free of this place. It was comforting, really. Monty leaned his head against Kaden’s shoulder, already picturing what sort of life they might find for themselves beyond the borders of this northeastern hellscape. He knew it would be good.

It had to be.

#writing #wickedswriting #para #c: monty #howdy-cowpoke #somewhere warm

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chasseurdeloup · 2 months ago

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TIMING: Before the farm fire PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @bountyhaunter LOCATION: The 3 daggers SUMMARY: Kaden and Daiyu look at the bounties! They also communicate very well. CONTENT: Allusions to hunter upbringings.

Kaden hadn’t walked this path in a while but it felt just as familiar under his feet. The hunter bar was tucked away in a barn, hard to find if you didn’t know where to look, and had once been a small comfort to the ranger. He knew from the moment he stepped foot in Wicked’s Rest that his hunting habits weren’t going to match most others in town, but there was a camaraderie in a place like that all the same. It was something familiar in a way that felt safe enough to indulge in when he first got to town. The more connections he made, the less he went and he’d all but exiled himself from it when he learned what Monty was. It made him too anxious to know that any number of the patrons there wouldn’t hesitate to kill his partner without a second thought.

Funny to think the reason he was showing up now was on his behalf. Not that it was what Monty wanted or asked him to do, but Kaden couldn’t sit back and not investigate. Not after what happened with the animals. If there was any lead on who could be doing this shit, he couldn’t let it sit uninvestigated.

The ranger inhaled deeply, letting the breath fill his lungs and sit there a moment before huffing it out and swinging the doors open. The bar was unchanged from the last time he’d been there months and months ago. Couldn’t say he was surprised. Kaden knew he should probably go to the bar first, get a drink, make himself less suspicious, but he went straight to the bounty board. He had to know what was there, he had to know if someone in this very bar was trying to orchestrate the downfall of everything his partner had worked to build.

Kaden was so focused that the side of his arm collided into someone’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he muttered to the person seemingly headed in the same direction. Normally he’d step aside and let them go first but this was a matter of–

Hold on. He knew this person. Putain de merde. Just his fucking luck. “Hey, Daiyu,” he said, trying to position himself in a way that she couldn’t dart past him to the board before he could get a good look. “Good seeing you again. How’s it going? Less snow werewolves I’m assuming.”

—

She’d garnered a bit of a reputation with the people at the 3 Daggers by now. Daiyu was the short, fiery hunter that often hopped in with a duffel bag filled with some kind of proof of a bounty succeeded. Mark knew her order by heart at this point (it was easy, admittedly — she always wanted a coke, preferably cherry) and she’d found herself building a back-and-forth with a few of the regulars.

The bar was a nice reprieve in Wicked’s Rest, even if it brought some complicated feelings at the same time — but that seemed to go for everything Daiyu did anyway. Nothing was ever simple, no matter how much she tried to simplify it in her mind. Still, she kept coming back. To find new bounties, to collect rewards, to rub elbows with some hunters and to eat a bit after a long trek in the woods.

Today she needed a new challenge. And a cherry coke, of course, but that was something she’d already gotten a hold of. She was moving towards the bounty board now, yelling something over her shoulder at one of the few hunters her age in the bar, “I’ll hold you to that Anton! I’ll get a whiteboard up here and we’ll tally it and I’ll prove you once and for all that I’m better at hunting hellhounds.”

She was grinning as she moved over, but then an arm hit her in the shoulder. Daiyu angled her head up (she had to do that a lot — she missed Jade, her fellow short-gal hunter) and looked at Kaden. Her grin grew a little wider. “Better look out where you’re going, big guy,” she said, demonstratively rubbing her shoulder as if she hadn’t also bumped into him. It seemed he was heading to the board too, which made her feel a hint of frustration. Kaden had seemed like a good ranger, and she really didn’t need the competition.

“Oh, totally awesome, with me. Snow werewolf season has ended, but I’m gunning for some pollen monsters next. Like a pollen lamia or siren or something, could be cool,” she said, speaking rapidly. Kaden was very tall and built, so she couldn’t catch any sight of the board. “Don’t see you around here much. Nice to see you though — you doing good as well?” She tried to look past him, but couldn’t. “Gonna have a try at killing Flappin Flann’?” It was one of her life goals. She hated the idea of Kaden succeeding where she hadn’t yet, and not just because he was taller than her. “It’s impossible, man.”

—

For how short she was in comparison, it was still hard to block her from the board without being obvious. Kaden didn’t want to dodge left and right with every crane of her neck and tip his hand. Not without knowing a little more about her first. “Pollen monsters?” he asked, brow raised, wondering if she was joking or not. Sure it sounded implausible but that didn’t mean shit in Wicked’s Rest. He never thought he’d see a snow werewolf either so who was to say a fucking pollen siren wasn’t on the table. “Going to hope that remains theoretical. I don’t want to keep fucking sneezing while trying to stab something. Sounds like hell.”

Kaden tried to get a closer look at what was on the board, eyes skimming frantically for anything about zombies, gatlin fields, a farm, anything at all. Right, he should probably try to be casual and not a panicked goddamn mess. He took a breath and looked back at Daiyu. “Yeah, I don’t get out much anymore. Guess I’m boring like that. Or something. But fine, I’ve been fine. Really fine.” He hadn’t nearly died and then watched as half the farm animals and Prickly Pears got slaughtered on the same night. Not at all. He was fine. Which is why he was so eager to find any listings that might be of interest. Because he was fine.

“Flapping what?” He snapped his head to look at her, almost forgetting that they were in a conversation. “What’s that? Is it undead?” Putain, that was stupid to ask. They were both rangers. Not that he didn’t hunt outside of his specialty often enough and he had to assume she did as well, especially if she survived off of bounties. “I mean, not that it– I just hadn’t heard of it before so figured it might not be a beast. All that.”

—

“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding, “Totally theoretical, but like, not entirely implausible, am I right? We’ve had snow monsters, so they’re absolutely next.” She turned towards the other ranger a little so she could more easily talk to him, even though he was much too tall to stand next to comfortably. Daiyu grinned regardless. “You know, I’ve heard that being allergic to pollen is just a character deficit. I personally would not sneeze once when confronted with a pollen monster, because I’m built better.”

It seemed Kaden was desperate for a bounty, which would be understandable if it weren’t for the fact that he had a proper job and everything. “Eh, not going out doesn’t make you boring. I don’t count this as going out, anyway, though I guess stuff can get pretty heated and shit here when the hour’s late.” She shrugged. “But cool, glad that you’re doing fine.” Though she didn’t know Kaden very well, he seemed like an alright bloke and a good hunter. Daiyu didn’t want him to be doing bad or whatever. Just common courtesy.

She stared at him for a moment, raising a brow, “Bro.” She turned toward the board, scanning it quickly before pointing up and jumping to tap one of the postings. “Squonk. Big fucking squonk. It’s my life goal to cash this bounty. It’s been here since I’ve been here, apparently for a long fucking time … how d’you not know about Flappy? Notorious creature, that one.” She scrunched her face up. “Gets people trapped in its flaps and all. Not at all like –” She probably shouldn’t mention that she had a pet squonk now, so she redirected her sentence. “– most other squonks.”

—

“I’m going to hope they stay theoretical in that ca— Hey!” Kaden spun to face her. Was she calling him deficient? “It’s not a character deficit. Or defect. It’s just…” Right, what was it? “I don’t know, genetics or something.” Then again, couldn’t allergies be treated or something? He thought he’d heard something about shots from someone. Probably other hunters talking about if they could build up immunity to other kinds of monsters if they treated them like allergy shots. Kaden was pretty sure that experiment failed, come to think of it. “You’re not built better, you can barely even see the board.”

That didn’t stop her from jumping up to point out the listing for Flappy. If he was feeling generous, he would have complimented her on it. Instead, he crossed his arms as he listened to her. He expected a harrowing tale passed down by some pissed off hunter years ago. He didn’t expect it to be—

“A squonk?” The word practically stuck on the lump in his throat. It had been a long time since Kaden thought about squonks. A very long time. He tried to keep the word “wrinkles” from floating to the front of his mind, but it was impossible to suppress. The memory pushed its way to the forefront without permission every damn time. He shook away the image of the knife slicing through wrinkled flesh and the sounds of pitiful squealing, opting instead to get a better look at the bounty in question.

It really was for a fucking squonk of all things. “Wait, you’re telling me a squonk is a notorious threat? A squonk.” He repeated it like it was something one of them didn’t understand about this exchange. “You know, a squonk. The wr— flappy dog looking monsters that can barely harm a fly? They just cry all the time. The worst they can do to you is get you a little soggy and salty. How the hell are people getting caught in its flaps?” No matter how many times he read it over and tried to make it make sense, it just didn’t seem right.

Kaden rubbed a palm down his face. “Someone is really trying to kill an innocen— harmless squonk? Really? Putain de merde, the hunters around here clearly need to get a hobby. There’s way more dangerous game to go after for fucks sake.” Was he really going to have to find this thing to try and protect it from the bounty hunters in the area?

Right. He caught a glance of Daiyu and turned to look at her properly. Would he have to protect it from her? “You haven’t tried to go after him, have you? I mean, have you seen him?”

—

“Bad genetics are just a character deficit,” Daiyu said, looking up at him with a challenging expression. It was typical hunter talk — or rather, it was typical Volkov talk, though she lacked the insight to realize that. To think herself somehow above other rangers for something like a certain surname had been instilled in her from a young age, and even though she was good at breaking things, breaking that habit had yet prove unsuccessful. “I don’t need to be taller to read what’s on the board. You’re just absurdly tall.”

She took in Kaden’s reaction with a bit of surprise, noting the way he wasn’t aware of the threat this particular squonk posted and how he called it innocent. Fries was a harmless squonk, mostly — the creature was definitely doing some kind of water damage to the hardwood floors of her rented cabin, though.

“Yes, I know what a squonk is, and I’m telling you — this one is not like the others. It’s like …” She frowned for a moment. “What King Kong is to gorillas, you know? And man, that must be a horrible way to go. Just getting stuck in those sticky, wet flaps and slowly suffocating. I’d prefer to get mauled for sure.” It was the end that befit a ranger and Daiyu was often surprised it hadn’t happened yet. Her body wore the proof that it, too, was surprised. “It’s far from harmless, though. People died, Kaden.”

She didn’t seem particularly moved by the people who had died as she said it, perhaps because it was all a little ludicrous. Or because she’d never really been raised to be a hunter driven by the deaths of innocents. “Besides, what kinda hobby do you suggest I get?” She gave him a glance, wondering what he’d come up with. Daiyu would like a hobby, but none seemed to fit her. Unless owning a dog was a hobby.

At his question, she shook her head. “Nope. Super elusive, that one. I have tried, you know, but I can’t find him! Anyway — if you’re not going after him, what are you looking for today?”

—

“Guess that makes you full of character deficits, then,” Kaden shot back. “You’d have to be full of them if you’re this absurdly short.” He knew full well she wasn’t that short but years of banter between himself and Keira had found its way into the conversation with Daiyu seamlessly. It prickled at his skin, whatever the feeling was, uncomfortable and comfortingly familiar at the same time.

All he could do was blink in response to the description of the giant squonk. It was hard to imagine any of them as dangerous creatures but the present picture being painted was unquestionably horrifying. Suffocation by squonk wasn’t an ideal way to die, he couldn’t argue that one. “King Kong just wanted to be left alone and wouldn’t have killed anyone if people had managed that much.” He was far from a movie buff but he was pretty sure that was the gist of the King Kong story. “Probably the same for the squonk. People wouldn’t die if they left it alone. Can’t suffocate you if you don’t get near it.” Sounded sensible enough to him.

“I don’t know. Running? Knitting? Gardening? I don’t fucking know what you like to do.” Hobbies had hardly been encouraged growing up and he had to assume it was similar for her. Hunters and all. There was never any extra time to fill that couldn’t be filled with training or hunting. Something useful. It was hard to shake that inclination, even now. “I don’t know but I heard they’re good for you. Hobbies.” He shrugged, not sure he’d mastered those on his own, yet.

“Me?” There was no reason for Kaden to be shaken by the question and yet he found himself rubbing the back of his neck and shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, uh, nothing in particular. Just seeing if there was anything about a farm.” He cleared his throat, unsure if he was saying too much. How much should he trust her? He wasn’t sure but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity for info, either. It was why he was here. “Or undead. Which isn’t— I mean, ranger but there were some complaints to animal control and I wanted to see if there was some overlap here. You know. See if it was more supernatural than animals.” Very convincing. Surely.

—

“Hey!” Her voice was like a burst from her body, a shot through the air. One finger pressed into Kaden, “Shortness is no character deficit. Just means I don’t need to take up as much space to make an impression.” And leave impressions, that Daiyu tended to do. She gave a glower to Kaden to punctuate her point, which was a comeback she had made many times before. People loved to hold her shortness over her head (literally) and so she had had practice.

“Okay, the metaphor doesn’t go that far. I’m telling you, it’s a problem. People aren’t smart enough not to get close, so what?” Daiyu felt a kind of moral superiority that was rare to her. She wasn’t even sure if she felt any type of way about this or if she just wanted to win the argument, though. “They deserve to die just because they’re a little foolish and curious? Tsk.” Hunters were supposed to have some kind of purpose to protect others and though she barely ever felt like a protector, it was nice to pretend to be one now.

Her face scrunched up at the other’s suggestions, “I run plenty. The rest of those sound bad.” She didn’t have the patience for knitting or gardening. Hobbies were a novel concept to her, especially those that lead to some kind of fostering or creation. The closest she came was trying to become better at bouldering and caring for her pet, but those were just things she did.“You sound very convinced of that fact.”

She frowned a little at Kaden’s reaction, figuring that his suspiciousness was pointing towards him trying to hide something but not knowing what kind of thing it could be. Maybe he was after the big squonk after all. Daiyu scanned the board, “Nothing about a farm, plenty about undead,” she said, shrugging. “Don’t worry, sometimes I go after those not-dead ones too. You know, why limit yourself? Maybe that’s my hobby. Expanding my horizons. Anyway, done looking?” She gestured at the bar. “First round’s on me.”

#writing #wickedswriting #para #c: daiyu #bountyhaunter #bickering bounty board buddies

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