ViolentViolet — Roleplayer Guild

Ten Thousand

Satisfied with the boom the sniper still made when it was shot she slipped it back into her truck through the window, sliding off onto the ground by herself. The others were far enough from her now that unless they were paying a lot of attention to her specifically they wouldn't notice her grab her bow and knife before heading towards the treeline. Anything within a mile would have heard her shots, therefore drawing their attention to her. Stalkers were clumsy when they're roused, often running right into danger without thinking, following their basic desire to eat the flesh of the living. This clumsiness could very well bring an end to her as well. With a glance behind her, listening closely for anything, she took to the shadows of the forest, intent on hunting down both dinner and zombies. 

With the bow in hand, booted feet made little noise as she stalked through the trees, keen eyes scanning her surroundings. She was afraid of nothing then, but ready for nearly anything that could have come after her. In the worst case there were people out here, and not the friendly kind. Best case, no Stalkers, some berry bushes and a good sized buck. Unfortunately, her venture was not going be entirely without incident, as if ever was. The low moan of a Stalker caught her attention, the dead being slowly shambling toward the highway. It seemed that there were indeed a few in the area, but not nearly as much as one would have believed. She was methodical, careful and efficient in using her energy. She barely moved when attacking, using as little force as she could to dispatch everything that she found walking in the forest. She even managed to find some dinner. 

Krystal worked through the night, eventually pulling what bodies she had found away from any water she'd seen, collecting anything useful or interesting from the corpses and the remains of a campsite just off the shore. An empty water bottle, some keys and a can of tuna was all that had remained of the camp; even the tent was torn and broken and none of the shoes were her size. On the other hand, she found an interesting leather jacket she decided to keep. By the time the moon was setting she was finished her work, clearing most of the zombies out of the area and managing to catch two fairly large rabbits for food over the night. It was just as the moon was setting that 10K came across a large buck, grazing quietly in a small grove. It was alone, it’s rack grown large and smooth. It would be a shame to kill such a majestic creature, a male who could breed an entire herd, though he would be enough meat to feed the group she had seen pass by. 

With a steady breath, a silent blink of her eyes, time slowed around her; heart beat slowed, arm drew back the string, lifting the bow, arrow aimed true. The buck, as if sensing danger, lifting his head, drew dripping from his antlers. He spotted the hunter poised to strike, paused as if understanding. Mating season was already over, there was no reason to fight. Nothing but his drive to survive; which that of the Hunter would outdo. “Thank you.” The shaft buried itself in the great beast's eye, killing it instantly with no harm to the main body. His pelt would make a nice blanket, or sack, his meat a great many meals. 

As the sun breached the horizon, the young woman sat on the tailgate of her truck, parked across the road from the house the group had settled inside of. A fire burned in the middle of the road, built of small trees and broken branches mostly. The antlers of her kill sat atop the cover of the truck, accompanied by the large hide as it dried out. There would be no leather from its hide, though she had thought about leaving it soft to make into a winter jacket - assuming she still lived until winter. 

She had washed in the ocean water, dried with an old towel and sat on the truck gate in a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top, her hair loose and long in its tangled waves. The mixed red and blonde caught the early light as if it was smoldering with fire, much like that she kept burning. In one hand she held a mason jar, half full of a clear liquid that certainly would not be shared with the other survivors. Pale green eyes watched the home, not really caring much to watch the surroundings anymore. The steaming entrails she had left closer to the beach would keep anything alive or dead occupied for a good span of time. Her tracks covered and her kill made, she would be moving on soon enough. 

Over the fire there were several hire hangers pulled apart and supporting small cuts of meat that cooked slowly over the flames. She had one such stick in her other hand, though it was mostly done by the time anyone had moved inside of the house. “Gotta make sure the kids eat eh?” The country girl didn’t plan on making friends or keeping anyone around, but she knew a few things she wouldn’t mind passing on to the group if they wanted to learn it. Of course, a girls gotta keep her secrets too.
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