One of the Hunters snarled behind its featureless mask. Its clean, white, perfect cover was stained with blood. It snarled, in a whimpering kind of way. The creature had put up quite a fight...but had been disposed of. Not exactly killed...just severly injured. Its partner put a paw on its shoulder, caringly. They were in the forest now...not deep in the forest, just on the out skirts of the village. Away from prying eyes and fighting attitudes.
Hunter #1: "Visl taki Golls kol..."
The 2nd Hunter rubbed its blood ridden mask and nodded. It was hard...but they seemed to love their job.
Hunter #2: "Jakil? Git molk Jakil?"
A sharp, weezing sound that could be mistaken for a laugh escaped them both. The 1st one held up its arm. Plated armour on its arm shifted and a small, sharp arrow type weapon appeared. Electricity darted around it and on top a red light blinked.
Hunter #1: "Tobiás...Jakil..."
They then disapeared into the night...as quickly as they appeared.
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America: So soaked in Religion its seething with Sin.
"In Heaven all the interesting people are missing" - Friedrich Nietzsche
"America is the most grandiose experiment the world has seen, but, I am afraid, it is not going to be a success." - Sigmund Freud
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