A hunting we will go.

[Nomine]

Tuesday January 10. Forests outside the city. 11 A.M.

There it was. A good stag, standing tall and proud. Its pelt might fetch a good price, assuming he could capture it and not damage the fur too much. Nomine crouched down in his hiding spot and slowly reached for the katana on his belt. He drew it slowly and quietly, not wanting to startle it. He's already lost 3 deer earlier today.

He focused on the deer in front of him. He didn't want the thing hurt. Just to knock it off its feet. Or at least knock him into that tree. Hopefully it will take it by surprise long enough for him to run up and deliver the decisive blow.

He swung his sword, releasing the magic he had been building up into a wind-based shockwave. There were only two methods to this attack: Either the dangerous kind that could cut down his targets, and those meant only to blow them back. Here's hoping his plan works.

[Dylan McNeil]

"She didn't have to tell me off!"

"But seriously, not believing everything I've said...Big deal, what would she believe then?" Dylan then chuckled as he shrugged to himself. "Not that it's any of my problem~"

As he walked through the dirt paths that crossed around the outskirts of Seria, Dylan took a turn and headed for the woods that sat to the side of one of the paths. Well, the woods were part of his patrol route for today...So that's where he headed.

Seemed quiet; so far so good. However...

"...It's quiet."

"Too quiet. I don't like it"

After what had happened two nights ago, Dylan was left with itchy trigger fingers. Too bad they had to retreat...But the kid couldn't have possibly handled all that. Not that Dylan could have either. He'll have to do something else to let off some steam.

Dylan looked down and saw some deer tracks. Oh, boy~ Venison steak!

He followed after the tracks, until he came across a different set. Human tracks. Nope, no taste for human steaks! He raised an eyebrow at his find. "Huh?" Human tracks after the set of deer tracks? Could be a hunter...or a poacher.

"Looks like I'll have more fun today after all!" Dylan pulled out one of his handguns and followed after the human tracks.

[Nomine]

Why is my RPer suddenly thinking of Elmer Fudd?

The stag got knocked back towards the tree. Yes! He didn't cut the pelt with the attack. No time to celebrate though. Nomine made a mad dash for the thing with his sword raised for a thrust the instant after he had unleashed the wind shockwave.

He ran his sword through the side of the deer's chest and into the tree behind it. He had to have at least killed it with that thrust, he thought to himself. Blood was already dripping from both spots his blade had punctured. Now he just has to remove his sword and-

Uh oh. His sword wasn't coming out. He looked up and realized his blade was not only run through the stag, but embedded in the tree as well.

"...This could be a problem," he muttered to himself. The blade wasn't coming free. He raised one foot and pressed it against the tree, hoping the extra force against the tree might help him get his blade free.

...No luck. He REALLY thrust it deep in there.

He tried using both feet pressed against the tree as he tried to pull the sword out. Well that time it worked. Sadly all it resulted in was him falling on his back with the dead stag on top of his gut and lower torso. A pretty heavy stag, one might add.

He pulled his sword out of the deer, since both his arms were still free. Leaving it on the ground next to him, he began trying to push the deer off him, or at the very least, slide out.

Once he got free, he picked up his sword and looked back down at his prize. How the heck was he going to carry that thing to the nearest fur trader or butcher? He didn't bring any bags to carry the deer's meat. He didn't have a smaller knife to skin the animal. And he had no idea how he was going to carry such a beast back with those damn horns in the way. Upon retrospect, he saw a number of mounted deer heads at that one place he stayed at a few months ago.

"..." He did not think this plan through at all, he was beginning to realize.

[Dylan McNeil]

The search didn't take too long, in fact, it was ridiculously easy. Whatever that sound was, it took all the fun out of stalking the target. Locking onto the noise caused by whatever that was, Dylan immediately and stealthily headed towards the source.

What he found was this silver-haired guy and a dead stag lying on the ground. Oh, whatever happened here~? Dylan cocked his handgun, seeing as the suspected hunter/poacher had a sword within reach, and approached the site.

"Ooh, fair game!" Dylan exclaimed in greeting, his gun pointed at the guy. "Are you going to keep the rest of that?" Then his expression became serious. "Serian militia, freeze! Hands where I can see them!"

"Identify yourself!"

[Nomine]

"Ooh, fair game!"

Nomine turned in surprise when someone came up to him. His expression widened somewhat when he saw a gun pointed at him. He tightened his grip on his sword, and focused on building up for another shockwave attack. The guy meant him harm, and he was going to defend himself.

"Are you going to keep the rest of that?"

Nomine wasn't going to answer that. Far as he could tell, this man was going to try and steal from him.

Then his expression became serious. "Serian militia, freeze! Hands where I can see them!"

That change in expression was enough. He had no idea what "militia" means, but he wasn't going to stand still. "Sorry. If you want a deer you'll have to kill one yourself."

"Identify yourself!"

Nomine jumped to the side and swung his blade, launching a wind shockwave towards the branches above Dylan. Once the air attack sliced through the branches they should come falling down towards Dylan's head.

Now two options left. Stay and fight the guy with the gun, or run to escape. Running seems like the better option. There're other deer in the forest. Or at the very least, he could possibly ambush the guy later if he tries to take his own stag out of the forest. With that in mind, he ran into the bushes.

[Dylan McNeil]

Damn it, magic.

After years of having Leifiel and his mother blast him with magic spells whenever he visits them, Dylan became very much accustomed to attack spells aimed at him. He leaped forward, evading the cut branches that nearly fell onto his head. He tumbled to a stop, gun quickly aimed at the last spot Nomine was at. Only, the guy wasn't there anymore.

"Guess he wants the fun way. Then let the chase begin!" Dylan told himself as he got up and followed after the runaway guy. He's going to have to keep in mind where that stag is. For evidence. Of course.

[Nomine]

Okay, gotta stay low, gotta stay low. Gotta keep taking odd turns and unexpected routes to lose his pursuer. After some time he fell off a rather small cliff, about four feet high to say the least. When Oh hey, a large hole under a tree. Nomine made a dive between the roots into the hole under the tree. He stayed under there and waited. He listened, trying to see if he had lost his pursuer...Or if he was still after him. He kept his sword drawn. In this small hole it would be hard to swing it at him, let alone deliver another shockwave. He decided to position his blade into a thrusting position.

Then it began to hit him. That damn headache problem again. He crouched a bit lower and did his best to hide there as he could. He winced and moved his free hand to his head. The pain is back again. Of all the inconstant moments to do so...

[Dylan McNeil]

Dylan followed after the hunter, eyes trained on the tracks. It was almost everywhere, it was as if the guy was trying to lose him. Too bad though, Dylan was used to hunting runaway criminals. "Must be one loopy person." he chuckled to himself during the chase. "Too bad he left some loose ends~"

Which turned out to be quite literal.

"Aaand speaking of ends, a dead end." The tracks ended at the edge of a small cliff. It's either the guy jumped down in desperation, or...

"Oh, no he didn't..." Dylan muttered at the possibility that the guy could've slipped and fell, thanks to the snow. "Something tells me this guy is no hardened criminal. Still!" The guy needed to be brought in for questioning and he's not going to catch the guy by standing there.

Dylan jumped down the cliff's edge, keeping his footing on as he slid down the snowbank. Once he reached the bottom of the cliff, the militia man cocked his handgun again, sweeping the area for any signs of movement. Nothing, except for the same tracks. Yep, the trail's still hot, even though the tracks looked a little erratic compared to earlier.

Must be in hiding. Which could be the most probable case, seeing as there were more trees down here than uphill. Keeping a watchful eye, Dylan silently picked up a fairly large rock and tossed it at some suspicious-looking tree roots. The sound should throw the guy off, in case he was waiting for an ambush.

[Nomine]

"Oomph!"

...Well crap he just gave away his hiding spot. That rock hit him in the chest. Here's hoping he didn't hear him, or can't see him under that tree right now. He kept his blade position, ready to thrust at that guy if he came closer. Nomine leaned closer to one of the edges of that hole, just to try and avoid being seen if he walks closer. Just stay calm, keep silent and-DAMN why won't this headache go away. It was getting harder to focus. Just wait for it man. Just wait for it. As he leaned back into the dirt wall of the hole. Well, the soft cool soil relieved some of his head's pain slightly, but not too much.

Just stay quite. Just wait and see what happens.

[Dylan McNeil]

Jackpot!

There was no mistaking that grunt; that guy was hiding under some roots and it was easy for Dylan to track down his location. Taking care not to stand directly in front of the hole (in case the guy launches a surprise attack), Dylan aimed his gun at the entrance and called out, "Listen, my good man; either you're mocking me or you love making fun of yourself. That spot's too easy!"

"Now I'll give you a chance to explain yourself." Dylan continued. "It's clear you're not entirely hostile. Just put your sword away and come out quietly. Don't worry; I'll listen."

[Nomine]

"Listen, my good man; either you're mocking me or you love making fun of yourself. That spot's too easy! Now I'll give you a chance to explain yourself. It's clear you're not entirely hostile. Just put your sword away and come out quietly. Don't worry; I'll listen."

...

"Holster your gun," he replied, giving off a groan from his headache. It would make sense he'd say that. In all fairness, Dylan showed the first signs of hostility towards him.

Nomine slowly came out of the hole, sword still drawn. He watched Dylan as he climbed out with a look of distrust towards the other man. Once he was out he stood up straight, holding his sword at his side as he still silently eyed Dylan. He looks to Dylan's holster to see if his request was granted, and if so, proceed to sheath his own sword.

He held the side of his face and forehead with his left hand, wincing a bit from his headache.

"So," he began in a stoic tone of voice. "What do you want."

[Dylan McNeil]

'Holster his gun'?

"Look here, you're not exactly the one calling the shots." Dylan replied with equal distrust. "And even if you are, you don't tell a militia man how to do his job." He paused and then continued. "But since you're willing to cooperate, the least I could do is make it fair for you." He then holstered his gun, but even without his weapon, Dylan would be watchful and ready in case of a surprise attack.

Nomine had crawled out of his hiding place and he would see that Dylan's hands were empty. There was something strange about this guy...as evidenced by the pointed ears. Dylan frowned at that; great, non-humans.

"What do I want, what do I want?" Dylan repeated the question in mock disbelief. "I want to see some identifications if you don't mind. If you have that, then you're free to go. But if you don't, I'll have to bring you in for some questioning."

"Standard procedure, my good man."

[Nomine]

"Identif...what's that?" Nomine asked. "And why do you keep saying that word "militia"?"

He seriously looked somewhat honestly confused at Dylan's words.

"And I'd rather not go anywhere. If you have questions, you can ask them to me right now," Nomine replied calmly. "I don't see much of a difference between asking me questions here and asking me somewhere else." He paused. One of his legs stepped back as if readying to go into an attack stance. "...You're a bandit aren't you. That's why you wanted to steal the animal I killed."

Despite the movement of his foot, he hadn't moved his left hand from his head at all. If Dylan paid close enough attention, he might notice Nomine was trying to massage his left temple with his fingers.

[Dylan McNeil]

He did not just call him THAT. Dylan's expression turned into a frown at that word. Normally, he'd think that Nomine was messing with him, but that confused look...Either the guy was a good actor, or it was actually genuine.

"Mind you, I am not a bandit." Dylan replied, firmly stressing that fact in. "If you're going by what I've said earlier, that was a joke. A. Joke. Look it up." This guy doesn't seem to have a sense of humor!

"And for your information," Dylan continued. "'Militia' is an extension of the army. On basic terms, I'm a lawman. Got that?" The guy looked like he's in pain though. "Now, now...That can't be too hard to understand, is it?" he asked rather sarcastically.

"If you don't want to go through the long processes, fine, just show me your identification."

[Nomine]

"Not exactly a good joke if you're pointing a gun at someone," Nomine replied quietly, wincing as his headache began to increase in pain. He leaned forward slightly with a groan, but tried to straighten himself back up as quickly as he could so Dylan wouldn't get the advantage on him.

"A...lawman," he repeated slowly. Okay, that sorta made sense. He wasn't a badguy. That sorta helps explain why he hadn't shot him yet. But still something didn't add up.

"I don't understand though. I've seen other hunters in woods hunt deer. What makes this forest any different?"

There's that word again. "...Why do you keep saying that word? Identification?"