Username: lavender towns
Kalon Name: Markos
What are they hunting?:
The rain is relentless as it pours down into the dark forest. The moon is hidden behind the clouds, and though it gives the overcast sky a slight glow, it's useless beneath the thick cover of the trees. As Markos stands in the bushes, breathing nearly undetectable, his body doesn't move an inch. His muscles ache and his senses feel dull from the time he's been waiting, listening for his target move from their tent. It's a long game of waiting, but it'll be worth it once they emerge. Once he can see them, he'll go in for the kill-- or, capture, in this case. This bounty is wanted alive.
His ears twitch eagerly as he hears rustling, and he shifts slightly in the thicket, one hand holding nylon rope and the other clutched in a fist. There's more movement, but nothing comes of it.
It felt like his whole life had been this. When he was young, he hunted animals. As he grew, he followed in his father's footsteps, becoming a hunter and gatherer for his home village. But it was never enough. One day a bounty hunter came through their town, and after hearing his stories by a warm campfire in the summer evening, he was sold. He left town the next day to begin training with the man, and within the next year he was hunting bounties on his own.
His parents weren't thrilled with the idea, but the money he makes easily swayed their opinion. He's never been in it for the cash, though. He's in it for the hunt. The rush. For the endless nights watching and waiting, and the satisfaction of catching these criminals before they can blink and hauling them off to the cops. He's an expert, as far as anyone else is concerned; he's spent more than enough time chasing criminals and putting them behind bars to earn the title. In the past, he's even been offered high ranking positions and a fancy badge-- but he declines every time. He isn't interested in glory or fame. He wouldn't know what to do with it, anyhow.
He catches himself lost in thought as there's another rustling from up ahead, and his pupils expand in the light of the lantern his target has in his hands. As the man pulls out a phone, Markos plants his feet in the dirt and hurls himself forward.
[400 / 400 words]