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December of 1971
Hemlock Neith Argent
After Christmas, I was forced to train with Gerard with or without weapons, and least to say he's weak when it comes to swords, arnis and dagger throwing though he blames his newly scarred elbow but he is killer on the guns.
"You'll make a great tracker." He said as Dad thought us his way of tracking, which consists of checking the surroundings, wind, and tracks.
"Thanks." I said, redoing my ponytail.
"The question is, are you going for the kill?" He asked which earned a glare from Papa.
"We don't kill just anyone, remember that." I sassed, and cocked my tranquilizer gun. Currently we are at a nearing a village few meters away from at the foot of Mourne Mountains in south east of Northern Ireland.
"We leave kids and innocents alone." Papa pointed out a figure in the forest. It was hunched and quite tall. Having a closer look through the scope of the tranquilizer rifle.
"There's a body beneath it. Wendigo*." I whispered and readied to flier but Papa shot it before I could and saw the creature, dodge it and saw my opportunity.
"Food!" It yelled with an Irish accent but collapsed as the tranquilizer shot on his chest when he was about to run to our direction.
"Nice shot, Fluer." Papa applauded and shot another tranquilizer at the creature for great measure. The body beneath it was clawed and chewed at but I didn't flinched.
"Sorry to disappoint. But I never missed and never ever will." I said and still held my guard up.
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We didn't stop training until December 30th of 1971. Its been days as well as I've seen James since he had plans with his friends who managed to slip from their parents grasp (except Remus who had permission).
"You like butter in a hot day." James said as we (plus the three boys) laid a picnic blanket where James and J first tried out our brooms.
"I was battered not buttered." I corrected and grabbed bags of Vanilla Cubes.
"Potato potato." James waved his hands mocking me while I threw a cube at him but he caught it in his hands earning an applaud from the boys.
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