Natria sidled up to the bar and busied herself with an ale. He was late.

Again.

She was eager to leave this town behind. It was like any other, but she preferred the open road to the sullied shacks and shambles that make up this sorry excuse of a town. Dimhaven. Dimhorn. That was the name of the town. She thought. It didn’t matter.

She sighed and took another slug of her drink as the moon set low in the sky and the last vestiges of its light left the inn. All at once, the door opened and half a dozen people flooded in.

It wasn’t safe at night. The mongrels and monsters would come sulking out from wherever they were hiding when the moon was high.

Natria always liked the stories, you know the ones that your mother would tell you before bedtime, about when a Sun was high in the sky and the days were bright, and the grass was verdant and in bloom. It sounded like a dream.

And the Angels would always save the day from whatever terror afflicted us helpless humans, Dragons probably. Natria smirked. But now the Angels were not the heroes from the stories, if they ever were. And we have to save ourselves now.

Since the Angels couldn’t be relied upon to save the day, to slay the dragons, bounty hunters like Natria had to do it.

But she had to smile to herself, she really did it this time, a black-winged dragon was currently in her possession. A black-winged dragon. Damn it, she couldn’t help smiling. It burnt down a town three miles south of here where she first tracked it. The bounty on it was huge. She could live on it for month.

Not if her patron didn’t come that is. She was almost done with her drink, and then she would start to get impatient. She might even hunt him down. Shouldn’t be too hard to find, some smarmy black market peddler creep who wants a dragon for some reason— she didn’t care why.

Dragons were a nuisance and incredibly dangerous if you didn’t know how to handle them. They terrorized towns, they were violent, it wasn’t their fault. It was their nature to be destructive.

Natria had three sisters. Had. It’s funny even if they were alive you would still use the past tense. Like the importance of their relationships as from their birth and not from their living. Though she supposed once she thought through it that was true. But it didn’t make it easier.

She was the oldest and as such she helped her parents raise her siblings. She could cook and sew, and tend to a baby. But she could also chop wood and harvest berries. Fish and hunt.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

She was in the woods, which was usually the most dangerous place to be during a dragon attack. Forest fires were terrifying. Getting trapped in the woods while it was on fire was a sure death sentence.

But this dragon, in particular, avoided the woods. It was unusual. A Freak accident. It should’ve been Natria and her father who died that day. Not her mother and sisters trapped in their home burning alive.

She didn’t have nightmares about it anymore. Well— not usually.

“Nosus.”

Natria looked up to see exactly the last person she wanted to see.

“Shepherd,” she replied over the rim of her cup. Call it professional courtesy that she did not throw her drink in his face the moment he stepped forward.

He rapped his fingers on the bar. “Got another one, have you?”

She hummed as her only reply.

“You know, if you didn’t know any better you’d think that you were the best dragon hunter around. That is if you listened to the gossip,” head said. He was addressing his nails like a right pompous ass as he said it. Which was in direct contrast with his worn leather overcoat, chuffed boots, and three day scruff he was sporting on his chin.

“Is that so?” She smirked.

“I mean, you’d have to be a fool to believe it,” he laughed. “But I don’t have much faith in people these days.”

She knew better than to rise to the bait. “And I suppose you are the greatest dragon hunter?”

“Well thank you for saying so—“ She rolled her eyes. “But no, I wouldn’t say the best in town, more like— i dunno. The continent.”

“What have you got then?” She said. “A Ridged Greenback? A Viper Tongue?”

He leaned in then, like he had some great secret. She knew of course, that if it were truly a secret he would never tell her, let alone loudly in this Inn, where more than one listening ear was pausing and taking notice. Of course, Shepherd wasn’t totally lying, they were some of the best. Definitely in town, probably in the region. Though she hadn’t seen enough of the continent to claim that title.

“Black-winged,” he breathed.

Natria stood up from her chair quite suddenly and backed him into a corner with a knife at his throat. “I swear to fuck if you have poached my bounty I will knife you right here.”

He smiled. “Then I’m afraid both of us will be put out.”

“What do you want?” Natria growled. “Because I know you didn’t come in here just to crow about stolen goods.”

“Is it really stealing if it’s not yours?”

“You’re really talking too much for someone with a knife to their throat.”

“Take it outside!” The barkeep materialized. The patrons around them cowered and stuck to the walls one the dingy inn.

Natria hesitated. She didn’t want to let Shepherd go that easily. But of course, she wasn’t about to gut him in front of all of these people. She’d make a mess of him outside instead.

She let him go. But then as he walked out the door. She kept a knife poised at his back and a hand on his shoulder as she pushed him out the door.

“I mean it— get out!”

“We’re going—“

“Can’t keep your hands off me—“

“Shut up,” she said and they were on out in the street. It was pitch black. Only the stars shone.

When the door slammed behind them she pushed him to the ground.

“Strong,” he murmured.

“Where is it?” She hissed. It was beginning to rain, and the dirt road turned slick.

“Right where you left it, princess.” He smirked from his place on the ground. “Promise.”

She scowled and stomped off to the woods, in the direction of her quarry.