âYeah, right? Odd how that
               worked out, huh?â
       Her shoulders lifted and fell in a nonchalant fashion while she
       attempted to look disappointed at her ruined night. A free  Â
       hand scratched at the back of her head, ruffling her typical massÂ
       of curls while she paused to think, then fell to hang off the backÂ
       of her neck.        Â
               âDunnoâ no oneâs gotten a good
               enough look at it. Could be some
             unlicensed half-breed or somethinâ.
               Itâs too damn big to just be some
             dog.â
       The hunter took the bullets offered to her with some initial hesitance,
       catching his grin as she quickly swiped them out of his hands. It wasnât
       as if he could really STOP her by chucking the cardboard box at her.
              A brow instinctively rose, the ammo fisted at her side.
        Pet names had the tendency to rub her the wrong way, her eyes
        internally rolling as she pulled down at the corners of her jacket to
       nervously readjust herself.      Â
               âOhâ oh good. Iâd really hate itÂ
               if I was doinâ this on my own.â
       Alright, the slight bitterness in her voice was out of character,
       but she still attempted to sell it with a smile right before she
       angled her head down to properly load the gun in her hands. Teeth
       bit into her cheek for her impulsive slip up, a series of metallic clinking
       signaled sheâd successfully cocked the weapon; a sharp scoff wasÂ
       smothered by the noise, along with a muttered,
               âImagine that.â
      The dried pine needles crunched underfoot, much to her annoyance.
               So much for being subtle.
        Jo Harvelle followed the ranger past the line of trees, gun defensively
        risen and eyes apprehensively bouncing between him and everyÂ
        distant rustle.Â
              âSoâŚâ
        She had broken the silence first, her volume low enough to beÂ
        nearly muted by their footsteps.
              âHow long have you been doinâ this
               for?â     Â
            âShit happens.â
               Â
       Cerberus shrugged, a slight smirk crossing his lips as he moved Â
       with the blonde into the woods. Now he just needed to figure out should  Â
       he kill her or allow the huntress to live to fight another day.        Â
              âIn these parts, I wouldnât put it past
               someone to breed a wolf or coyote Â
           with a normal mutt. â
      The hound looked into the darkness of the forest, pulling a flashlight outÂ
      to play the act as a human searching for a hound. Even if he could seeÂ
      in the thickness of the dark woods.    Â
              âWhat got ya into this job, if yaÂ
               donât mind me askinâ?.â
       More so what got her into becoming a hunter? Was it a family job
       or did she happen to see something that went bump in the nightÂ
       that caused her to become a hunter? Either way her life span wasÂ
       shortened, and maybe there was a part of the hound that hoped herÂ
       time wouldnât come anytime too soon.Â
     The human he tookâs body away was twenty eight and the life the manÂ
       had was a mechanic and bounty hunter. Not a ranger. Formulating aÂ
       lie in his head Cerberus turned to look at her.Â
              âFive years, and ya?â  Â