ONE. the hunter becomes the hunted! ｡･:*:･ﾟ✧｡･:*:･ﾟ
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months later
A woman stands, hidden behind the crumbling wall of an old building. Brown cloth wraps over the bottom half of her face to conceal her features and drapes over the top of her head to protect her smooth dark hair from the buffeting wind and swirling sand, though shorter strands of it fall over her forehead, catching in the length of her eyelashes. Her eyes scan her surroundings, brown irises catching the light and turning into honeyed pools of coffee.
The blaster anchored at her hip is concealed by the long cloak hung from her shoulders; her fingers dance along its handle as she observes the different species roaming between the other buildings. Intel that Zoya has gathered reveals that the infamous Mandalorian bounty hunter that had caused her to become imprisoned frequents the streets, travelling about the city to receive new targets from the leader of the guild, Greef Karga.
On her exploration of the town, she'd seen the bounty hunter's ship anchored outside the city, but upon further inspection, she'd found that it was empty, meaning that he's somewhere in one of the many buildings.
Waiting for him to emerge leaves her on edge; every sound catches her attention, and she whirls at every stroke of the wind down her spine, believing it to be the wrong end of a blaster or a dagger tucked inside a dirtied sleeve. Every time, it's nothing, and she's left with her paranoia and not much else.
Though she'd realized it wasn't, technically, the hunter's entire fault that she'd been thrown in prison, Zoya needs to blame someone, and that family would just raise hell if they found out she'd escaped the cell. The bounty hunter, on the other hand, is a perfect target—he'll be unprepared. Plus, she's been concentrating on developing her hand-to-hand combat skills, along with aim with a blaster and longer rifles. It won't be hard for her to defeat him, this time.
As a breeze blows through the streets, Zoya adjusts the cloth covering her face, eyes focused and unrelenting in their search.
Confidence thrums through the curves of her body as she slips down a street, blaster unholstered and hanging from her fingers, ready to fire. Rocks skittering down the next alleyway on her right catches her attention, and Zoya slips between two slanted buildings, rooves low and dusty, peering through to the other side.
Fate whispers a cool caress down her spine. It's him. Anticipation plays a legendary tune across the length of her ribs, the melody echoing through her body. Zoya shifts on her feet, pressing closer to the wall, ready to lunge out and catch him off guard.
