The streets past the edge of the park, Saturday, early afternoon

[lostdistinction]

Eliot was wandering. It was most of what he did, these days. He'd found a bit of jerky in his pocket and nibbled on it, wondering idly where he might have gotten it from

Comments

[emptypark]

Look, it was Him. Aside from her regular hunting partner, this was the only person who she always knew.

Sneak, sneak. Sneak-sneak-sneak-sneak-sneak.

Or, you know. Stalk.

[ageofthemonster]

And a few yards away, Hardison hunkered down and waited. He'd fashioned a trap over the past few days, a simple pit trap lined with all the sharp bits and pieces he'd been collecting for years. Over the mouth of the trap lay tree branches and brush--he wasn't intelligent, exactly, but had a murderous cunning left, the last vestiges of his previous brilliant mind.

The other hunter would herd their game here. And they would finish him, once and for all.

And feast.

[lostdistinction]

Eliot couldn't tell you what it was, but something had him exchanging his jerky for his nailed board. He spun it low by his side and turned in a slow circle, scanning the streets.

Don't attack. Just defend. Don't attack.

Unless it's Parker or Hardison. He was pretty sure someone told him he could attack them on sight.

[emptypark]

She moved fast, clawing at the side of Him that didn't have a weapon. He was good with weapons. Damaging. Pain wasn't even a memory, but damage slowed her down.

..this way, yes. Drag or lure or fight over here.