[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DmjRHYr.png?1[/img]
[h3][color=548b54]Dulga Tarata[/color][/h3][/center]

The drive into Hikiddo was quiet but fast. All Dulga had to hear was the roaring of her bike as she traversed the mountain paths. It wasn’t long before she came across a familiar bed in the road and turned into a small narrow path. It was mainly gravel compared to the asphalt, and it was in dire need of replacing, but her bike was able to climb over it until she reached a gate. It was a small gate with just one steel bar blocking the path. Dulga didn’t bother undoing the lock; she simply picked up her bike and walked over it.

A short walk later and Dulga was at her old home. A tall wooden cabin, with tall grass overgrown with vines and moss. Dulga old home. She looked around and at first glance you couldn’t even imagine anything as chaotic as a wildfire could have happened here. But with just a glance Dulga could see it all over again. She blinked, and it was back to reality. Moving on she went to the house, unlocking the front door with a key. It was cold, dark, and musty inside. She flicked the light switch near the door but there was nothing.

[color=548b54]”I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. No sense in paying for electricity to here.”[/color] Dulga went further inside, taking a flashlight inside a drawer to light her way. Even though there wasn’t really anything in the house; all the old furniture had been either sold or removed. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Dulga made a beeline towards the attic.

One would think if you wanted to hide something heavy and important, put it in the ground. But Dulga’s mother was different; important things were left where she could easily get them. Even if say, her House was burnt down or blown up. Hard to get to a safe buried underneath tons of rubble. Built into the support beam of the House was a steel safe that didn’t even have a key or lock. That was because it was a puzzle box that required not just a knowledge of the box, but also brute strength. Seemingly bare. There were specific spots on the box you needed to press down on, hard. For an average man they would need a wedge and a sledgehammer for the needed force. For someone like Dulga or her father, just one finger.

Dulga presses all of the right buttons and the safe opened. Inside was another gun box just like the one Dulga carried. With this in her possession Dulga set the flashlight down to illuminate the room as she started to put her guns together. Two handguns, a marksman rifle, her shotgun, and now the final weapon from her mother’s arsenal: the PTRD. Single shot, 12.7 caliber, made of modern materials instead of being a refurbished antique. Dulga always wondered why her mother put time and money into buying a modern replica of such an ancient gun. The best she could think was that she needed heavy firepower for cheap; compared to other guns that were chambered with the same bullets or something similar, the PTRD costed pennies. It helped that her mother always had this one belief; that a good hunter only needs one shot. With one bullet you had to be sharp, had to know when to hold your shot, pick your battles, and when to finally take a stand. Someone with many bullets won’t think like that; they’ll think that as long as they have bullets they’ll take as many shots as they could, making up their accuracy with volume. That might be fine for a soldier who only needed to shoot when ordered, but for a hunter like Dulga and her mother, sometimes all they get is the one shot. They had to make it count.

It made Dulga reflect on her previous battle. She had fired twenty-two pistol rounds, six shotgun bags, and eight rubber rifle rounds. And none of those bullets eliminated anyone. Sure, she had managed to hit a few targets with them, but they didn’t defeat the other students. Even the one victory she could claim over Amane was ultimately done not because Dulga was a good shot, but because she was willing to throw away Mamoru for a gamble. In the end all Dulga was good for was barking orders and intimidating people. Which might be fine in scarring off punks. But neither of those things were going to help her defeat Kensai.

Ten years ago there was a villain in the Hikoddo region who wanted to bring back the native wolf and bear population. He thought that modern Japan had destroyed the natural beauty of the mountains and forests, and with his genetically modified wildlife, he was going to raze the towns and cities into the ground so that nature can reclaim them.  Sufficient to say a team of heroes put a stop to that, however while they managed to arrest the villain his creations fled into the wilderness and began to breed. Without anyone to command them they simply returned to being wild beasts, but occasionally their numbers would grow too large. More peaceful wildlife conservation groups have been trying to control their population without repeating the same extinction in the past, but it wasn’t that simple.

Though beast they may be, they were stronger, faster, tougher, and smarter than their ancestors. They did not fall so easily for baits and traps, but still retained their savagery and apathy towards humanity. It was not unusual for reports of campers or hikers who have been torn to pieces. That’s where people like Dulga’s mother stepped in. After she had retired as a bounty hunter, so took to controlling the animal population, making sure they did not grow too large that they would attack civilizations, while taking out any beasts who showed an interest in hunting humans. Of course that was a few years ago when Dulga’s mother was still alive. Now no one patrols these woods. She has seen scenes of their activity. Scratches against the trees, droppings in the grass, prints in the dirt. They’ve claimed her home as their own. It was a good idea to bar their windows; if the wolves couldn’t go through the door no doubt they would have tried to smash through glass.

And Dulga knew that by night they would know she was here. Her footprints were on the path, her bike was outside, and she hadn’t bothered to hid her scent at all. Even if this was her home they would think of her as an intruder and try to force her out. Dulga’s bullets were limited; she was going to have to make every shot count. She had until nightfall before the wolves would be at her door. She needed to prepare accordingly. After assembling her guns Dulga walked over to a dusty old box in the attic and opened it, revealing hundreds of pounds of rope and wires.

[color=548b54]”I have a lot of work to do.”[/color]