Mori lit a pipe and thoughtfully patted on it while reading Shawna's message again. He had a pretty good idea of what had happened, after all it wasn't the first time anything like this had happened to Kami.
He left the computer and walked over to the dirty table where he had dismantled his guns and poured himself a glass of Gin. "Thought I told her what was gonna happen next time anything like this happened. Guess she didn't listen..."
What he wanted most was to hunt down Bartender and put a few tender holes in her body, but he couldn't be sure she was responsible for this. The scars on his body ached, but it was an ache he had grown intimately familiar with the last year. Being close to a claymore when it detonated was not good for your health, neither was going head to head with skinchangers or vampires. When he thought back he understood why people were so surprised he was still alive.
But Kami had been a close friend once, back when he was new to the hunt. And if something had killed or injured her it needed killing. Bad.
Oiling his gun didn't take as long now that he was used to the stiffness in his left hand. After two hours he rose from his chair, packed up and left the room. A testament to his fury was the fact that he hadn't even touched his drink.
He left the computer and walked over to the dirty table where he had dismantled his guns and poured himself a glass of Gin. "Thought I told her what was gonna happen next time anything like this happened. Guess she didn't listen..."
What he wanted most was to hunt down Bartender and put a few tender holes in her body, but he couldn't be sure she was responsible for this. The scars on his body ached, but it was an ache he had grown intimately familiar with the last year. Being close to a claymore when it detonated was not good for your health, neither was going head to head with skinchangers or vampires. When he thought back he understood why people were so surprised he was still alive.
But Kami had been a close friend once, back when he was new to the hunt. And if something had killed or injured her it needed killing. Bad.
Oiling his gun didn't take as long now that he was used to the stiffness in his left hand. After two hours he rose from his chair, packed up and left the room. A testament to his fury was the fact that he hadn't even touched his drink.