Characters: Cain, Buffy, Giles.
Written Using: The dw100 prompt ‘Quarry’.
Summary: Cain is determined to bag his twelfth werewolf.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
A/N: Triple drabble.
Cain is an experienced hunter; over the years he’s hunted every kind of creature that would bring a good price if offered to the right people, but werewolves have proved the most lucrative of all. You might say he’s become a specialist.
He’s taken a tooth from every werewolf he’s killed as a souvenir, eleven so far, worn on a thong around his neck. The next one will make an even dozen, and no one is going to prevent him from claiming his prize, least of all this slip of a girl and her stuffy sugar daddy.
They’re amateurs at best, they have no idea what they’re doing, and chances are they’ll get themselves killed. Cain won’t lose any sleep if they do, they’ll only have themselves to blame, but he’ll not have them getting in the way of his hunt. They already let the damn werewolf get away once; if they’d left it to him, he’d have bagged it by now. The girl thought she could get a chain around its neck, take it walkies, lock it up until it was a human again.
“News flash, little girl; only thing works on werewolves is a silver bullet. Chains and doggy treats ain’t gonna cut it. All I need’s some tasty bait to draw it close, then one clear shot…”
He almost gets it, but the girl shows up again like a bad penny, knocks him down and wrecks his aim. Typical! By the time he’s on his feet again, the werewolf is out for the count, tranquillised.
He has some choice words for chicky, right up until she bends his gun barrel in her bare hands like it’s taffy, and damn, she’s stronger than she looks.
Maybe he’ll let her keep this one. Plenty more werewolves in the forest.