The man had been stood upon the precipice for hours. Watching, waiting for a sign and hint of confirmation that his life trained skills had led him to the right place. They were down there he knew it; he just needed that knowledge before taking that final leap.
Then is came, that howl. The one that could only sound during the light of the full-moon. Quickly the Hunter got to his feet, slinging his quiver over his shoulder with one last look over the forest below.
“Let’s get to work,” he spoke to the darkness; a sly smile upon his whisker-bearded face. Remembering the woman who’d sent him on this particular hunt.
All the while the demon within writhed with unbridled excitement; for his host would do the hardest of the work and the beast would get to feed. To kill. The anticipation abruptly stopped. “You’re distracted,” the demons whispery voice accused of it’s host.
“You would be too, did you see the way she looked at me?” He ventured to speak out-loud to Argur, “My renown for this line of work is growing.” The hunter cared little for the offer of payment involving meals and time with her in bed, fact that he’d been asked for by his specific description.
“Did you not hear her exacting words? ‘The Were-Hunter with the Black Eyes,” Argur twisted the lighter mood of his host. “Who is it they really see in that description?”
With voice full of bitterness; for the truth of the demons statement, he replied. “Hush now, or I’ll starve us to death.