Serrah wandered out of her room, checking for the new guy- Tyler. When he couldn't be found, she shrugged and plugged in her earphones. She bent down to tighten her running shoes, shut her door and left, jogging down the hallway.

[Around the City]

Airell came home and went to his room.

Serrah danced back into her dorm, grinning to herself. She stopped as she noticed the fourth door was closed and guessed a room mate she hadn't known about was home. She shrugged and went to look out the window, she hadn't realised what a great view they had from here. She bopped her head to the music in her ears and stared fixedly out the window, subconsioucly waiting to see if the room mate would emerge and say hello.

Tyler quietly snuck behind his roomie's back: the last thing he wanted to have to explain was why his shirt was a shredded mess and there was a puncture wound in his neck. Luckly he and Natalie made it to his room without alerting the girl.

"Okay, let's talk," Natalie said quietly.

Tyler walked over to the dresser, where an intricately carved chest of white ashwood and animal horn lay. Seemingly, it didn't have a lid, but as he ran his fingers gently over the carvings the top popped open. Gently he placed the ruined shirt and dart in the box and closed it. It shut as seemlessly as it had opened.

He turned, leaning against the dresser. Natalie somehow didn't look out of place in his room. It was odd.

Dreamcatchers hung in their beaded, feathered glory above his bed. Around the walls hung Native decorations of hide, bone and pelts intermixed with Celtic swords and crosses. On one wall was an Irish tapestry of a wolf howling at the moon.

"A lycan skin-walker, huh? That's not something you see every day." She looked around the room. "Nice room."

"See; I told you you'd figure it out." Now if she found out about the other things, THAT would be interesting. "Thanks. So...why a bounty hunter?"

"It's what I was raised doing," she replied, staring at her hands. "It's what my father did."

"Do you like it?" he asked, sitting on the bed and leaning forward, elbows on knees.

"Most of the time. I think I just enjoy hunting, you know?" She sat down in the chair and placed her head in her hands.

"You alright?" he asked worriedly. *Wow,* he though irrelivatly, *it would realy suck if that ax fell off the wall and clonked her in the head.*

She forced a chuckle. "I'm fine."

"Alright. We'll pretend I believe you. Why was--am--I a target?"

"They didn't really go into details. They just wanted to know what you were and how dangerous you were. If you were too dangerous I was to eliminate you...and if it were possible I was to bring you in alive for testing. After they finished testing you, they would send you to the Academy to be used as a practice target for the students, if they didn't kill you first."

He let out a low whistle. "Fun. So...how dangerous am I?" Probably more than she knew...but she knew more than most already. Crap...his father better never find out about this. Of course, his mother probably already knew.

"They didn't give me enough time for a full assessment...but I'm impressed with what I have seen, which, by the way, isn't much." She sighed. "It doesn't matter. They're not getting anything from me. As far as they're concerned, there's nothing special about you."

"You either, apparently. Wow, are THEY obtuse," he observed, grinning broadly and laying back on the bed, hands behind his head. "So...why were you so eager to shoot those guys?"

Natalie barely held in her laughter. "I've never liked them. They're all sore that I graduated faster than they did and they can't stand that they were beat by your average everyday girl."

"Besides, they all believe that my father was a failure and that I'll be just like him...a disgrace to the bounty hunter name."

"Sorry to break this to you, love...but man learned HOW to freakin hunt from our types! They STILL fail at it!"

"My father was good at what he did," she answered defensively. "His partner shot him accidently one night when they were out looking for vampires. He couldn't get back to the Academy in time to save my father."

"So that makes your father a failer how?" he asked, puzzled.

"He wasn't a failure. They just say he was since the vamps weren't dusted that night. Who knows how many they've sired since then? They think that he's somehow responsible for the mission failing."

"Uh-huh. And yet no one calls Cheney a failure for not shooting any quail." Then his face turned serious. "All joking aside; I'm sorry about your dad."

"Thanks. It was a long time ago; I barely remember him."

"Sorry about that too. What will they do to you for not finishing me off?" he asked, considering her.

"That depends on what they know about you. They only suspect that there's something supernatural about you. If I can report that you are the average everyday citizen then nothing will happen to me; I'll be given another assignment. If they know something then life will get very interesting."

She looked up at him. "I enjoy a challenge."

"Uh..." he scratched his head nervously. "Did they, ah, happen to say anything about my parents?"

"Nothing. I think they just gave me this random assignment because I refused to just sit around. I hate it when they tell me to take some time off."

He laughed. "I can see that. Now what? Are your boyf--coworkers going to be punished for shooting an ordinary with a dart?"