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honestly I have no idea why he ran and the only person who could tell me ran shortly after her first hunt. she disappeared in the same way he did. their tracks vanished at the edge of the woods that borderer the house we all lived in.and sorry again.

The tense air in the old timey themed shooting gallery lingering around was giving off a strong sense of killing justice but it did not affect Lime. She came inside the shooting gallery not for practice but for business. Her mood was quite ticked-off and tired at the moment because apparently her client decided to be a dumbass by giving her a no-show and placed all the information in a paper bag somewhere inside the gallery.
"Tsk... Next time I should have pick a smarter client . . . who doesn't ditch me!!!" she whispered harshly to herself as she kicked a seat over to release some of her anger. It did not help much but it was a good thing she kicked it because she saw the paper bag was hidden underneath the knocked over seat. After she had finally found the paper bag containing all the information, she tore it open and skimmed through the contents looking for the client's main point. Apparently her client wanted her to "SEARCH" and "CAPTURE" a pack of "WEREWOLVES" or a family to be exact. When Lime read those words, it peaked her interest since it has been few years she was assigned to a search-and-capture job.
While she was reading the contents again but thoroughly, she decided to sneak a glimpse from her orange-tinted sunglasses to see what was going on in the shooting gallery. A guy with razor sharp claws, a priest-looking gentleman, and a young pink-haired girl were all standing, chatting, and practicing on some dummies.
She started staring at them intensely for a few moments wondering what they were doing. Lime could feel their sense of justice but somehow... it felt murderous and unfriendly maybe? 'Hmm.... what an interesting group there..... Maybe I should check them out . . .'
'Bor~ing....!!!' With that sudden change of thought, she went back to reading.

I tried but the only thing that they had left was a few pieces of knocked off bark and a foot print in the dirt. no scent no sweat no trace. the only one who could have tracked them tried and failed to find them in 100 miles. and the only one who could really ever track Numair was Diane. she was also the only one who could ever keep up with him. he was trained in dual blades and firearms. no one beat him with his ulaks in his hands. ever. before he left I looked up to him as a role model. now I want nothing more then to kill him.