#fucking hell it's dog training it's not hard to predict hazards

[sheepdog-and-fakegoldenretriever]

Last time I'll see him tomorrow as I move jobs next week

Also saw my rue girl for the last time Monday broke my heart I'll actually miss these dogs so much. I hope they find their perfect home soon

[cupnoodle-queen]

CHASING SUNS: Chapter 5 Giving Chase

1,264 words Tiny chapter, but mostly something to get the plot advanced. Still hope you enjoy, as always tagging the soulmate AU buddies @blindbae and @nifwrites

For the first couple weeks at HQ Cam went on as many hunts as she could handle, and as many as Greyson’s time permitted. A routine developed; up at eight, an Ebony to go, handful of hunt flyers stuffed under her arm and ammo clips stacked in her pack at the ready. They’d plan a route based on the locations and do a circle around, one after the other, snapping pictures of their slain and dog-earring the hunts they’d completed. Cam’s cellphone gallery became a grotesque slideshow of dead daemons, but after so long she treated them as trophies, the more the merrier.

She thought the same for the gil. Hunt bounties paid well and even with the retainer percentage given back to HQ Cam had earned enough to purchase a second pistol and more armor, a black leather vest that zipped snug just passed her bosom and a set of fingerless leather gloves that helped her grip on her guns, especially when coated in daemon ichor. Prompto gifted her a bandana and she’d tied it around her neck, blending in with seasoned hunters in no time at all.

The sharpshooter himself had tagged along on the occasional hunt as well, providing a world’s worth of pointers and showing Cam the weak spots on larger creatures. Had she’d known that firing straight into a Bomb’s mouth that it would trigger their self destruct, she’d have saved a fuckton of ammo from their hunt a few days ago.

Cam was forever grateful for the time Greyson dedicated to training with her. He joked that he needed it, that his chestpiece was getting loose. Much to Cam’s annoyance however, he was still listed as provisioner until the new guy was fully trained in, so they had to quit around the dinner hour while Greyson went off to take care of that responsibility, leaving Cam alone to reload her ammo clips, alone with her thoughts.

She despised downtime. The ache in her side would creep back, her mind no longer occupied with predicting monster’s movements or counting her bullets or memorizing the hazard colors on each hunt flyer, red being the most dangerous while blue were easy pickings. It was during these hours before sleep that she dreaded most, because despite her attempts to focus on something, anything, she thought of him.

And it was hard not to because he turned up everywhere she went. Asshole. Cam had to wonder if it were spontaneous, complete coincidence, or if he felt the draw as well. It was automatic, sometimes remarkably before even catching sight of him. In rare instances she’d have to hold onto something to steady herself, and stop her feet from taking her towards him.

But regardless of the problems encountering him alone prohibited, catching him with Steph was a whole other story.

It always burned, pain in varying degrees depending on their level of PDA, the more intimate the gesture the hotter the sting. Prompto had mentioned the woman's name in conversation one night at the bar and it left an aftertaste on her tongue.

He’d also mentioned his name; Gladio.

“That short for something?” Cam asked, trying her best to not seem overly interested.

“Gladiolus,” Prompto had responded, drawling out the O and rolling his tongue. It caught the man’s attention, who was holding hands with Steph from across the bar, his other hand peeling the label from his beer, just as Cam was doing to hers…

“That’s the name,” His rough voice replied, “what’dya want?”

She’d never heard him speak before. Of course it was music to her ears, of course she could hear it for a lifetime and beyond. She hated him for it, downing her stale beer before slapping ten gil on the counter and heading out, her hand trying to smother the fire at her hipbone.

Had it not been for the thrill of the hunt, the absolute mind-numbing trance the sight of daemon blood induced, she would have left on day one. But she hunted to stay sane, savoring the moments where her brain wasn’t saturated in thoughts of her soulmate…thoughts of Nolan….it was constant tug of war, both the living and dead vying for her tormented mind, both causing pain. When she hunted, that pain was pushed off to the side, survival instincts taking the wheel.

She needed that now, the escape. She needed a big payoff.

Greyson was out on a supply run with the new driver, so she was left to her own devices. He was foolish to toss the keys to his own truck under his bunk.

Cam scanned the board for a hunt to fly solo on, several blues and some greens standing out. They were quick hits though, something that would distract her for a small amount of time before reality came crashing back. She needed something with meat to it.

Smack dab in the center of the board, a yellowed flyer peeked out from beneath newer, easier hunts plastered around it. Cam pulled it free, scanning the details in red font.

Naga.

She pocketed the hunt paper, checked her bag was stocked with ammo and slipped into Greyson’s truck.

“Okay but you’re getting the next round, big guy.”

Steph looked at Gladio through her lashes, hoping he was picking up what she was putting down. He wasn’t. He couldn’t tear his attention away from that goddamn woman who stormed out. For weeks he’d wanted nothing more than to get her out of his head, get the drive to be near her out of his system. Sure Steph was a good distraction and an even better fuck, but she lacked something. A sun on her hip, to be exact.

Gladio sighed, turning back to his girlfriend. “Oh, that so? Well I-”

He stopped, unable to speak.

Steph waved a hand in front of his frozen face. “Hey, babe. You there?”

Something had hooked through Gladio’s core, the very fibres of his being splitting at the tension, the force shooting through his soulmate mark. He couldn’t ignore it, the weight of the world countering his mass. Without a word, he stood and stormed out of the bar.

“Dude! What’s the deal??” Prompto called after him, spinning around on the bar stool.

Steph watched Gladio leave and shook her head. “Whatever, he’ll be back. He owes me a rye and coke.”

Once outside, Gladio followed the internal compass tugging him forward, towards the…hunt postings? That couldn’t be right-

He caught it. Being stationed at HQ for so long, everyone and their dog had scoffed and joked about taking on one of the strongest daemons ever sighted. You were smart though, to not ever take it on. If you said you were serious, people would talk you out of it, tell you to jump a bridge if you’re feeling that way, because you’d save someone a hell of a lot of cleanup.

The flyer with said hunt, was now missing. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Gladio’s marking burned like hellfire as he spun around, the sound of tires against asphalt catching his attention.

The girl was going out to by herself, and she picked the mother of all hunts. She had no idea what she was getting into. Or did she?

No. He wouldn’t sit idly by to find out. The thought of how her death, this star-crossed stranger’s death, would affect him…

Gladio hopped into his Jeep, cranked the key in the ignition, hoping like hell he had some spare elixirs in the glove box as he sped off after her.