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Are Huntsman Humans? Aahh dear reader, you've stumbled into a particularly loaded question there.

When we speak of Huntsmen, members of the HHA, Human terrorists targeting Monsters, it seems cut and dry doesn't it? Yeah they're Humans fighting for the Humanity. But have you ever asked, where exactly they got the inspiration for their visage from? Where does the Hunter, all clad in green, prowling the forest for his Lycan prey come from? Stories, fables, folklore and Fairytale. Now riddle me this; if these are the origin points of so many Monsters, what makes this an exception? Well if you can't find an answer to question, maybe you need to consider that there isn't one. Rather, this exception for Huntsman as Monsters simply doesn't exist. Yes the Huntsman meaning what crawls out of a pub after the England game to try and kill Monsters, now that's inherently Human. But The Huntsman; The Monster, the Thing porn of people's perception, this too is a very real thing. Of course it had to be, the HHA is by far the most successful Human operation, so of course Humans weren't actually behind it.

There's not even too much mystery as to why these Monsters would forsake their kin, cos they're Human... According to themselves at least, they look Human, Act Human, Think Human. But by the very nature of having a heart that beats in their chest, guts that fill their insides, these claims are incorrect. But the pull of the delusion, to subjugate those they feel their lesser, it's a little too much. For Things defined by the very fear that something always lurks for them in the negative space, it makes some kind of sense doesn't it?

We follow such a pitiful creature now, the back of her head illuminated by the moonlight creeping between the strands of her hair. Looming over the Golden Retriever splayed out and constricted in his own bed sheets, huge grin across his face. Unusual relaxed of the Monster, perhaps he believes himself the aggressor of the two? Despite the sight of the Huntsman looming over him(maybe add another line?). The Monster opens his eyes and addresses the hunter:

-Ooooohhh that's knocked me right out, I could just lay in this bed for the rest of the night. He remarks. Hey now, how come you got dressed again so quickly? We ain't got anywhere to be right now.

The Huntsman sits on the edge of the bed in her green denim jacket, covering her oversized shirt, which in turn covers her black leggings leading to her white and green trainers. In her hands she has her green beanie, ready to cover her blonde hair.

-I just get chilly easily is all. She replies.

-Is it just that? I didn't disappoint did I? Asks The Dog as he sits up on the bed.

-Oh no I had a great time, fuck if I don't need... THIS every now and then you know?

-You mean some Knot? The Retriever asks, raising and lowering his eyebrows.

-Well... Getting THAT is easy, I mean this whole thing here. Choosing to hunt you down, getting you to bring me here, fucking, vibing after....

The Huntsman then proceeds to run her hands through The Monsters hair, softly grasping the back of his ear. She's looking through him completely the entire time, she's seeing something else somehow. Even the path she takes stroking his head feels like repeating a routine long ingrained into her.

-It just makes me recall. She continues. Just better times.

She leans into The Monster, her grasp still on the fur on the back of his head. She places her face, her lips, barely and inch away from his, leaving his breathing laboured and shaking.

Tho, that's probably due to the hunters knife she just pierced into his abdomen rather then due to getting the horn.

-But the time for pleasure is over, it's back to business. The Huntsman declares.

The Golden Retriever starts to convulse and lurch himself forward, reacting to the pain yes, but not to the wound. Rather this intense surge turned a light hum into distracting static, the frequency of such rattles throughout his bones, the messages that gives his flesh permission to twist and expand. His breathing gets more and more erratic, the force of each exhale, as his snout reaches outwards, attempting to push The Huntsman off the bed. Throughout this whole transformation The Huntsman continues to stroke The Monster's fur, for where ever her hand could currently reach, softly "shhhh shhhh"-ing him as she removes the hunting knife from his abdomen, considering it cannot reach the deepest part of the entry wound anymore.

Foam and spit pouring from his jaw, The Thing that was once a Golden Retriever tries to plead with his assailant:

-Why? What Di- ...ver do tuuu yyoouu?

-You've been deemed a threat I'm afraid.The Huntsman coldly replies.

-Grrnnrllrr, and WHAT exactly constitutes me a threat?

-Look at yourself Lycan, how can this be trusted to roam the streets?

-Rrrrrrrr, you cur! I'm turning due to YOUR actions! I took medication to keep it repressed just FINE.

-Really? There's no state prescription I've ever heard of for that Lycan, do you get that on National Health? No of course not, so what happens if your access to these meds gets interrupted?

-Then GRgrgwe THE EXACT thing you expect would happen wouldn't it!? It's as if when we're not being intentionally starved out, we can thrive. Same's true with any person, not just Monsters, same with you! You think just cos you've made yourself hairless, doughy 'sapian look-a-like there's ANY difference betwe-

In the blink of an eye The Huntsman grabs the [???]-pistol from the inside of her jacket and blasts the Lycan's skull out and his now hulking frame just flops to on it's side on the mattress. Well, he did say he was fine spending the night there.

As The Huntsman composes herself, as she stands up off from the bed, she can't help but glance at her prey. In this moment of observation, she comes to a thought, a dark thought that she makes a note to repress typically. It passes through her mind and shoots down through the inside of her thighs as they quiver. What if one day... THEY were the one laying here, at the end of the barrel of her firearm? She shakes her head, as a noise from the window back to her senses.

She sits on the desk by the window, as she lifts it open and points her ear to the outside. It's slight, by the faint resonance of a brass instrument can be heard coming from the woods, it's the alert meant for Huntsman's ears, a hunt is on. She stands again and heads towards the door. She turns the handle and... Locked. She quickly finds the keys by the table side and unlocks the door and... Still locked. The Huntsman can hear the very wood whine and pang from above the rafters, the very room itself is commanding her to stay.

-Well if the locks broken they're going to remove it anyways...

The Huntsman aims her pistol again and shoots the wood surrounding the lock, slowly and patiently reloading, as if giving the door itself time to recede. It doesn't, so she keeps at it until the lock has no influence on the door, as it slowly swings open for The Huntsman. She nods as she heads down the corridor, the hunting pistol aimed towards the walls of the narrow corridor; a threat. The corridor itself bends and shapes itself to lead her back to the outside world. Not like a benevolent guide leading it's tenants out of the maze, but reluctantly as if it is compelled, no obligated to do so. Despite the fact The Huntsman resides within in it's body, at it's mercy, something stays it's tendrils from eviscerating it's occupant.

Indeed when she steps outside, she looks back and see's the doorway protruding out of a great tall oak in the middle of the forest she intended to walk too. She recognises the sight of this doorway intimately, it was The Hounds of Tyre, a Monster pub that acted as the backdrop of some of her most fond memories. It first came to her a month ago, appearing as a corridor to where she needed to be, with curiosity, empathy and friendship. The Huntsman found it useful, even when it was reluctant to help The Huntsman found a way to coerce it into obeying. One of her most consistent talents some would say. Of course The Hound has too, for this Monster specifically? It has too, something which takes residence inside of it calls out to The Huntsman, has this entire time.

A voice cries out into the woods:

-Please! I just want to find somewhere for me and my litter! I'm begging you!

The Huntsman sighs, as she loads her gun and steps out into the woods.