A huntin' we will go (Molly/Jo, TBC in comments)
Jo was absolutely ecstatic to have her body back. She could look people in the eye again. And get upset without her fingers lighting up or any nearby electronics shorting out. She was short again. She never thought she'd appreciate being short, but she did now. And she didn't have to deal with the icy cold metal that was in certain... ah, delicate parts. Not a pleasant experience given the cold snap that York had experienced during the week before Halloween.
Most importantly, she could truly get back to hunting. Something had caught her attention in the form of a rash of livestock murders. She'd bet her shotgun that whatever was doing it was not a typical predator.
She'd followed the trail and it had led to the most recent farm where all of the cows had been slaughtered. Apparently the farmer hadn't had the heart to deal with the clean-up yet, as various pieces and a lot of blood was still scattered on the ground.
Jo knelt as she caught sight of something else-an over-large footprint. She pulled out her journal and flipped through the pages of notes, hoping to find something to compare it to. There had to be something she'd encountered with a footprint this size and shape.
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If Jo was happy to be back in her own body Molly was positively blissful. She hadn’t realized just how much she would miss her magic if it ever went away, how useful it made her feel. Without it she had felt like something to truly be pitied, a burden. She had spent a whole day doing nothing but feeling everything again. It had been the calmest she’d been in…well, a long time. Let’s leave it at that.
That was how she picked up on something off towards the edge of town. She’d been sitting there with her senses open, but blocking out the area where the fair had been, not wanting to get caught up in whatever ooginess the Gates were spewing out and feeling the energies on the opposite end of town when she felt the deaths. Animal deaths fortunately, so they hadn’t damaged those raw places in her mind that weren’t anywhere near healed from the war, but there was a hunger that she picked up on that was almost as bad as any Red. Something was claiming its territory and that Molly wasn’t going to tolerate.
She grabbed up some items she felt she’d probably need which included one of Murphy’s guns and a spare clip then set off to track this thing, whatever it was. She neglected to leave a note saying where she was off too, but in her defense it hadn’t occurred to her that she needed to do so. She’d lived on her own for so long now this was just how she was.
She followed the feel of what she’d picked up through town and out to some farm. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel like it came from the Gates for which she was very thankful. That left natural or possibly from the Nevernever. The crowbar and the hunting knife in her boot were nice reassurance that she could most likely handle this.
What she hadn’t expected was to find someone else on the case. Coming across Jo made her pull up short and tilt her head. In some way she felt like she knew the hunter a little better though if she had to say how she wouldn’t be able to. Still, she didn’t feel at all nervous around the blonde anymore. “Hey.”
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Jo would now know that voice anywhere. She looked up from the footprint and gave Molly a welcoming smile. She had a newfound respect for the wizard after walking a few miles in her shoes-literally.
"Molly-hey. You picked up on some of the bad mojo here?" she asked.
It was an educated guess. She had felt what it was like to have Molly's heightened sense of the paranormal and the hair on the back of her neck stood up as she could almost feel what Molly might be sensing here. She was glad that she didn't have to deal with that sort of heightened awareness all of the time, but she could see where it might be useful.
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Seeing Jo smile brought a more solid one to Molly’s face and she walked towards the other blonde with an easy stride. “It isn’t bad. This is natural.” She glanced around them, sniffing the air. Something had been seriously marking its territory. That or it was the cows. Having lived all her life in a city Molly honestly couldn’t be sure. “Well. Not demonic anyway. Or evil so far as I can tell.”
She crouched down by Jo to see what she was looking at. “Whatcha got?” Not that Molly would know a track unless it jumped up and bit her.
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“Natural?” Jo asked, with a frown. She gestured to the blood around them. “It might not be demonic, but whatever did this isn't a normal predator to livestock.”
She turned her attention back to the footprint, which was part of a trail leading away from the field.
“That's one big footprint. Only two 'toes' from what I can see. So whatever it is isn't hellspawn. Some sort of creature then? I feel like I should know this footprint.”
She flipped through her journal once more, but didn't find anything useful. So instead, she did a quick rough sketch of the footprint and then closed up the journal and put it away. She straightened up and looked at Molly, careful not to meet her eyes. She knew exactly what would happen if she were to look Molly in the eye and she'd had her fill of soulgazes and wizard's Sight.
“This ringing any bells for you?”
She was glad to have a partner along. She'd hunted on her own for the first year of her life as a hunter, but it was always better to have two sets of eyes. Not to mention that it was better to have someone watching your back than to go it alone.
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Molly frowned slightly. “Cougars and wolves don’t normally chose to prey on humans on bikes, or small dogs but we’ve created that ourselves by taking away their environment and natural prey.” She looked back to Jo, her frown lessening. “Then scream ‘oh my stars’ whenever it happens because the poor thing is desperate to feed the flea ridden kids back in their bi-level den. And we shoot it because we’re convinced that human meat is so much tastier and nutritious than a deer or rabbit’s when that’s really only true for the things that don’t belong here, but no. Two toed things were kind of missed in biology class.”
She sighed as she stood up, looking off the path into the trees. “What I know about tracking things out here through normal means could fit on my pinky nail and save room for a Chaucer ballad.” A smirk and a wink got tossed Jo’s way. “But I followed its mystical feel this far. Want to beard a lion in its den?”
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Jo gripped her shotgun and then smiled at Molly.
"The answer to that question is always yes."
She pointed in the direction that the footprints led, and then started to follow the trail, walking slowly enough that Molly could catch up.
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Seven months or so ago, Molly honestly couldn’t remember anymore how long ago, she had been shot in the leg during one of the bloodiest battles this world has ever seen. She almost died from blood loss. You would never know it by how she moves now. When Harry had first seen her as a ghost Molly had walked with a cane when she wasn’t in a fight. She’s come a long way, baby. She caught up to Jo without so much as a limp.
She opened her senses again then wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t the smell of the farm, or the remnants of a feeding ground. Something tickled along her mystical senses that felt natural yes, but…gross. “Ew. It marks its territory somehow. Magically. But bleh. Nose full of supernatural pheromones.” She glanced at Jo with a disgusted smirk. “But, that means we’re on the right track and getting close.”
Molly took the lead and tried not to gag as the markings got thicker. It didn’t work magic, whatever this was, so much as oozed it onto things, letting other beings know in a very primal way MINE MINE MINE!. Finally, they rounded a bend in the dirt road and Molly pulled up short. “Hell.” About ten yards ahead of them was an old wooden bridge of dubious sturdiness. “I think I know what this is.”
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Jo wrinkled her nose at Molly's description of the thing marking its territory.
“Have to say, I don't envy you right now. No offense, but I'm glad to be back in my own body. Mere mortalness and all. As cool as your magic is, I'm happier not picking up on things like this.” She gave Molly a grin.
She stopped next to Molly and looked over at the wizard, and then followed her gaze to the bridge.
“Please tell me it's something that can be killed with salt rounds.” She had other types of ammo in her pocket, but the gun was currently loaded with salt rounds.
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“Uh…” Molly chuckled weakly and rubbed at the back of her neck. “No. It can’t be killed, dismissed or even turned into a burbling pile of snot like substance with salt rounds.” She frowned and kind of weebled in place as she tried to work through the mess that is her mind for everything she knew about this thing. “It’s a troll.”
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Trolls? For a wild second, Jo thought about the fact that they weren't supposed to be real. Then again, how many things had she encountered that weren't supposed to exist?
"Please tell me it won't have hot pink hair," she muttered. She slid her gaze over to Molly and shrugged. "Sorry. Flashbacks to that one crazy month in middle school when everyone had to have a troll doll."
She was already at work on switching out her ammo. Regular bullets probably wouldn't do much good either, but if she was lucky they'd at least hurt like hell