The youth (?) that spilled out onto his slice of city roof (ha a rhyme!) was setting off nothing short of two dozen alarm bells in his mind. The hunter narrows his eyes at him, the smile still oozing charisma remained fixed to his face and he clicks off the safety with one thumb “You approach every stranger with a gun with such brazen tomfoolery?” he questions with a wry chuckle falling free.
He motions with the handgun back towards the door, his free hand resting upon the half deconstructed military rifle at his side. Sure, the slugs it shot were built for taking down far bigger game than a wolf but anything above an omega had one hell of a healing factor to take into consideration. Silver tipped only promised a delay, hollow point would have been ideal to compact and deposit a helping of tainted herbs to the wolf’s bloodstream. But, he hadn’t banked on someone stumbling across him like this.
He can almost here Cody’s voice chiding him gruffly from the back of his mind. It would be easier to kill him he knew that in his heart but he had no beef with humans; he loved humans. Donned the badge to protect and serve and all that, took an oath.
Then again, how certain was he that this interloper was a human?
He fires off a shot then, directed to the ground near the other’s feet “Next one is going to hit home kid,” another wave of his gun “Lest you maybe want to take a whiff–” he pulls out the pouch of vervain, powdered and lets some drift free “Tell me what you smell?”
He wasn’t a vampire. They weren’t his usual prey, too unwieldy. He lacked the too-pale near translucent flesh even under the moon’s glow. Which left: demon, wolf, human, witch? Witches are only a step above a mortal, wicked deck of cards up their sleeves but–
“What kind of trouble you looking to start because I’ve got more bullets to spare. One last chance,” he grinds the toe of his boot into the mess of dust at his feet, ready to kick “Gonna mind your business?”
Many people in this town considered Cyrus to be a bit...Unhinged. And Cyrus supposed they were right. Cyrus lived for the thrill. He wasn’t like most other omegas who would be content to find an alpha or pack and cuddle. No...Cyrus was going to make a name for himself. And he was quickly on the rise.
The other wasn’t the only one familiar with guns, after all.
Cyrus was a hunter in it’s own right. An assassin, and a versatile one at that. Whether it be by gunshot or poison, or by his very own body...Cyrus has never missed a target. And when the other shot that gun at his feet? He became a non-contracted target.
Still, Cyrus kept his aloof and happy expression on his face. “Hey, hey!” He said chipper. “Watch where you’re pointing that! I would hate for any accidents to happen.” Cyrus warned with a smile.
“Hm...Vervain...Such a lovely smell. And deadly for a werewolf.” But the other made a mistake, and Cyrus decided to capitalize on that mistake. Cyrus quickly crossed towards the other, making sure to keep an eye on that gun and an eye on te man’s free hand so that free hand just in case he pulled out any more surprises. “Of course...A werewolf that’s in wolf form...I was thinking you were a hunter, but now I think you might be a hunter-in-training...Surely an experianced one wouldn’t make such a mistake like that?” Cyrus taunted the other with a smirk.
