[Quest] The Hunters and the Hunted.

[Victor Wolfe]

Five dead dogs later

Victor had followed quietly, observing Gabriella's growing fury at being, in her own words, "Fucked around by some shitty mutt”. Content to see if she could figure out what he had already noticed from the second body, he decides to just enjoy the stroll - after all, there were worse ways to spend an evening. The stench of putrid rot that filled the air made the assassin appreciate having the undead along. After all, he would not be able to pick up the difference of one rotting meat from another. He was a murderer, not a butcher. The only meat he regularly had to deal with tended to be bipedal.

The frustration was clearly getting to his companion more, clearly more used to the lesser undead, their lack of survival instinct, and unending hunger driving them forward like front line infantry towards a well-placed pitfall trap.  Victor himself didn’t really mind. A crafty target - one that actually wanted to try and live, was always the more fun hunt. "People that accept their fate too easily… how boring," he muttered under his breath, before looking forward again to the girl in front of him. Her once sadistic grin replaced itself with an increasingly infuriated pout. So she is cute when she’s annoyed, too. good to know, he chuckled as they walked. Perhaps she was underestimating the werewolf... or maybe she was more like her undead kin than she let on. It did seem to take her a while to figure out what had been obvious to him for so long.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" With a scream of built up rage, she unleashed her axe on the nearest tree she could find. Chopping with fury into its dead wooden flesh. Feeling a tingle of slight danger, the assassin recoiled a little. That could have very easily been his arm or neck that she decided to turn into a pile of small pieces. Allowing her to take out her rage for a minute, he decided to lean against another tree - one that at this moment had apparently not insulted an axe-wielding psychotic’s great ancestors.

Twirling his blade on his finger, he looked up and wondered if it was the blue moon that had boosted Peter’s intelligence, or if all Lycans were this fun to hunt. Hmm... if they are all this fun to hunt, then maybe we should kill more and make a coat of their fur? Giving this another moment’s thought, he noted to himself, no, it would probably just turn back to the human skin once they die. Still, I have heard of some eccentric individuals adding flair to their kills by making clothing and furniture from their victims. Maybe that’s what I need - A makeover, less black and red, more pink and blue? On second thought, Gabby here might try to eat it. But am I opposed to the idea of pretty women ripping my clothing off? Thoughts for later, he concluded his little daydream to see that the tree had seen better days, now with extremely deep lacerations, and a now, panting axe wielding zombie looking proudly over her work.

"So, Miss Gabriella, are you finished with your part-time lumberjack work? Could we get back to the hunt? I would like to kill this good chap before the moon sets, he turns back human and all the fun is taken away from it," he said sarcastically, his signature grin plastered across his face.
"Fuck off, you useless bastard," she snapped back angrily, clearly noticing how passive he had been so far. Mock offence filled his voice as he shot back, "Oh my dear, sweet Gabriella, I have merely been formulating a plan whilst you lead us deep into the hunting ground. And what a great job you have done, for without you, I would not have noticed the final piece of the puzzle."

He swaggered toward his comrade, her eyes turning to him as he compliments her. Silver-tongued as always, Victor notes with pride. He leant in close to her face, their eyes meeting. Taking her by surprise he continued, "You see, this beast is more cunning than we gave him credit for. He knows this area, and he knows unfamiliar scents. Most of all, he knows how we were tracking him. It is my hypothesis that he has been leading us into a better location to spring a trap, letting us think we are catching up to him when in fact, he is probably already killing the next dog way ahead of us. Consider this more like a game of chess than a normal undead hunt. But, thanks to your impressive skills, I figured out a way we can beat him at his own game," The assassin waxed lyrically as he revelled in his own perceived genius, whilst Gabby looked skeptical at best.

"You see, my dear,” he began again, “thanks to your lovely nose, I noticed that you are tracking by what smells different from the norm here. Dead dog, in this case.. If we smell like everything else here, then we could drop from his map. He will have to rely on a different sense to track us -Maybe sight or hearing. What it does mean is that he can no longer control our position, and we force him to reveal another one of his pieces." The zombie girl seemed to buy more and more into the idea as he went on and their faces and bodies drew even closer. "I also have a way to do this prepared. The only problem is, you might get mad because it could hurt a little," he explained with a little chuckle as he leant in as if to plant a kiss on her lips. Her eyes closed in response. Sorry for this, he thought as he moved his foot behind hers and pushed forward, aiming to land her in the mud that made up most of the floor covering the swamp. Its smell was sure to mask their own scent, but he had no idea how the hotheaded undead would react. He was sure that whatever Hell he welcomed upon himself, she would look adorable leading it to him.