A few days walking had left me at the walls of yet another nameless town. There were so many of these empty settlements along this sanded track of road, I wonder why anyone even lived in the cities, these quaint little huts were all you would need. Shaking my head, I remember, I was here for a reason, some water. My canteen had been emptied just hours before reaching this place, yet it still seemed like a great many claustrophobic days. I guess to onlookers, that would describe why it looked like I was praying to the ground…oh well. Glancing around I found the sacred well, and I proceeded to replenish the small canteen with an absolute maximum of effort. As soon as a drop of refreshment hit my parched tongue, I decided to truly take a look at this place. Standing at the main gate, you could have never guessed how many people this place held within its canyon walls. After I left my first pub, I was determined to get past this checkpoint without a moments hesitation, however, the celestial moons decided to play a trick, and they slinked their way into the sky before I had time to realize that night was falling quickly. The thought of continuing my trek did tickle at my mind for roughly 10 minutes, which was enough time for a man to sneak up behind me, and pull a revolver… .38, from my best guess. His voice demanded respect, if you were anyone other then my family. "Tores the Hunter I assume?"

My reply even sent chills down my spine, "Am I that apparent among a crowd?"

"Very few have a complexion such as you."

"That was my intention."

His voice changed to one that caught my cautious ear, a slight slip could be destructive, " I do not believe you when you say what you do. Appearances are easily copied, but skills are not. Prove you shoot like the man you claim to be."

A slight tickling laugh welled up in my throat, but I managed to keep it exactly there. "Which means do you suggest we use to test this?"

"A duel."

"That is the luck of the draw, it has little to do with accuracy."

"Then, without a moments hesitation, find a bird and shoot it!"

I could feel my inner senses starting to tick. Crickets became trains in my ears, my eyes say the thread of the hut so far from me, and the little dab of sweat on my tongue tasted as if I had swallowed an ocean. From somewhere nearby, the sound of slowly fluttering wings slammed into my inner ear, a small chirp further pushed it in towards the soft innards of my brain. It was pinpointed, behind me, 10 degrees of the side of the mans head. My hand on its own instinct grabbed the butt of my oversized revolver, and I drew, the metal sliding from the leather like silk from skin. The monster flipped its cannon over my shoulder, and the stainless steel bullet ripped away from the muzzle. The bird had no way of knowing its fate had been decided only milliseconds before the metal cracked its way into her wing, severing so many of its tiny bones, muscles and organs. I turned my head to survey the act I had just committed, and I could feel another type of feeling claw at the sides of my throat. Dread, that blue jay more then likely had a few young chicks crying for her return…she would never see her work ever again, even if she was just a bird. The man was looking at me, by the look in his eye, I felt he was scared I was going to shoot him.

"You are indeed Tores the Hunter."

I took a moment to respond, "…that was a senseless test…"

"I know… and I am sorry for that, but it was necessary. I represent the Bernadelli Insurance Company. Our two chief field agents, one Milly Thompson and Meryl Strife have asked for you."