Friday,

February 9, 2012,

11: 56 AM

The brilliant sun shines over the vibrant emerald grass and warms the dusty dirt of the driveway, the sounds of the satisfied cows and playful goats echo from the pasture and a cool spring-like breeze drifts through the clear air. It's a beautiful clear day this morning, the weather had warmed only slightly into the mid-sixties. Birds chirp, the river stream sings behind the house, and chickens peck along the ground for more feed. Valli wishes he could bask in the noises, allow the peacefulness to overtake his mind, and just float on the porch swing. Instead dread swells in his gut, his flesh freezes over in goosebumps and he needs to go through breathing exercises to calm his nerves. Kane refuses to take no for an answer, and while the owner would normally find such determination and stubbornness cute and humorous, he finds it quite annoying when those traits are used against him.

This morning Valli barely greeted the man in the kitchen when Kane came down the stairs, interrupting the conversations around them from the group of hunters and Addy. The older hunter demanded Valli get dressed in training-appropriate clothing, leaving no room for argument. Upon the shocked stares from the others and the blind man, he simply caught Valli by the upper arm and towed him to the stairs once again. That leads to the house owner being stuck in gym shorts and a tank top on the porch, hand resting on a supporting beam as his feet refuse to begin the path down the steps. He has no clue what Kane has planned, what they'll do. However, he already knows it won't end the way Addy and the Hunter want it to. Valli is adamant the only reason he took down a demon was the trap and the fact it happened under pressure, under a real threat. His instincts kicked in and ran his body on auto-pilot.

With the group of Hunters busy doing chores, or assisting Addy with the farmers market, this leaves Kane and him alone. The Witch helped Valli find clothes, murmuring assurances and approving words to convince the man to at least try. She also made certain the five guests didn't question too much, distracting them with suggestions, firm requests, and feigning begs to help with the market. Kane had waited outside on the porch swing, cleaning guns and putting them back together with sharp clicks and dull snaps. He built targets and hay-filled bundles to attack and found some speakers to test how Valli reacts to sudden warped animal noises. He doesn't expect much from this; Valli is rusty. The hunter just hopes the younger body will snap into action once it feels threatened, or allow the movements to happen once they get started,

The only problem so far, is that Valli can't force himself to step off the porch. He heard Kane gather items into a bag the moment the front door opened, then take off down the steps of the porch for him to follow. Yet he's frozen at the post, unable to convince his feet to lift and move. The only effort they give is to stomp his foot like a child, whining. "Just because I got lucky once doesn't mean this will help!"

Kane stood at the last step, thick arms crossed as he watched the childish action. His eyebrow lifts, a short huff of a laugh trapped in his throat. He admits the sight is cute, if odd. Not every day he witnesses a retired hunter refuse to train, stomp his foot, and whine as if he doesn't want to go to school. The thick twin braids his long hair is in don't help, the faded pink tank top and the black gym shorts showcasing the lithe limbs and muscle. He sighs impatiently, wide-shoulder shrugging. "I don't think you got as lucky as you think. Come down, or I get you down."

"Get me down? What? You gonna carry my blind ass?" It's said as a sarcastic dare, Valli even softly chuckles at it as he imagines it. Assuming Kane wouldn't want to cross an invisible line the larger put out, he had been careful not to get too close to Valli only weeks ago.

"I'm considering it." Comes the retort, serious and challenging.

"Don't you dare!" Valli demands, pointing his finger towards the man's voice. At the threatening boot drop towards him, he shrieks. "I don't know where I'm at if you carry me! Kane—" A loud surprised squeal escapes his throat as rough hands land on his waist and suddenly his feet are off the ground, and his body is thrown over a firm shoulder like a sack of apples. He pounds his fist against the sturdy back, legs kicking until a strong arm traps them against the man's torso. "Kane! Why, you rude, insensitive—"

"Awe. You flatter me. Really." Kane answers dryly, smirking a the wide eyes of Addy, the woman looking out the screen door at the scene. Tightening his hold, he ignores the wiggling of the body. "Behave. Stop squirming."

With a huff, Valli slumps. Arm hanging limply, forehead pressed to the lower spine of the older man. Mumbling loud enough to be heard, "You're such a smug asshole."

He feels the snort his words receive, only humoring the hunter carrying him. A hand pats behind his knee, "That's the best thing anyone called me, and it's true. Two points for you."

"What are we even doing? I heard you messing with guns. It's been years since I did more than clean and check them." Valli grumbles, fingers finding a loose thread in Kane's jeans to pull and mess with. Kane figures it is a mercy to save the scarred man from the embarrassment of knowing the thread is at his butt, he can feel the faint pulls and jerks as the thread is played with on his ass cheeks. He thinks it's hilarious, and good blackmail material. He'd be mortified if I told him he was groping me, shy little boy.

Following the path behind the house, the man walks towards the treeline next to the river. The hay targets are scattered around a small clearing, far away from the fish shed and the garden. In a large willow tree sits a small speaker tucked between branches, a hay bundle wrapped tightly with wire and old cloth next to it. The head of the bundle (an old cushion Addy gave him) is propped up on a twig, a bad illusion of a creature watching them. A punching bag is set up, hung from a sturdier tree branch, and a line of plastic and glass bottles rests on a fallen tree further into the woods. The men are about a yard or so away from the main areas of the house when Valli is given land under his feet back.

Sighing dramatically, he dusts his clothes off with a pout. His ears perked, trying to discern where he was on the property. They only walked for a minute or two, the house can't be far. The river sends wisps of moist air towards him, the harsh waves as it runs down the bank thunder in his ears before the sound smoothes out as he gets used to it. Pressing his lips together, his head turns towards the garden, eyebrows furrowed. "Are– are we to the right of the garden? In that clearing with the big willow tree? Not by the barn... I would've heard the animals. The river is louder this way, and stronger."

Kane's eyebrows jump, shocked by the accuracy when he hadn't walked himself here. It just proves if Valli can use his senses, he can do things he doesn't think he could. He thought he wouldn't know where he would be if he was carried, and here he is, getting the assumption right first try. The man grunts, crouching to open the duffel bag. "Yeah. Thought it'd be good. Secluded, got a view of the house, grass for cushioning, and trees to shoot at."

"You shouldn't shoot trees. What did they ever do to you?"

Deadpan, Kane states without looking up. "They let monsters hide in them."

There is a small hesitation, the blind man sanding almost awkwardly, fingers twisting each other. "... I guess that's true. But still."

Valli startles just barely when his hand is gripped by a callused hand and a rough, yet flexible material starts to be wrapped around his knuckles. His nose scrunches, but he keeps still. Allowing Kane to do whatever he feels is necessary. This was his idea. Once his knuckles are wrapped tightly, and comfortably, the man starts on the other hand. Kane shortly explains, resolved. "We're gonna practice some fighting. Not with me. There's a punching bag to your left, on a tree branch. It weights bout the same as a fresh vamp, so about Addy's weight. Think you can do that?"

"Punch an unmoving punching bag," Valli repeats slowly, head tilted as his eyes narrow. Uncertain if the man is mocking him or being serious. "Yes. I think I can do that much."

"Good. Do some stretches first." The older demands, dropping the wrap back into the bag.

The order receives a shake of Valli's head, "I stretch every morning and night. I'm already ready for whatever you planned. At least, I should be." Sighing deeply, his hand reaches out cautiously, taking small uncertain steps. I already feel useless. I'm never this careful. "You said the left?"

He hears a hum, deep and reluctantly soothing. "Five steps to the left. You'll touch it in a minute."

True to his word, Valli feels the leather material of the punching bag after four more baby steps. He allows himself to just rest both hands on it, getting a feel for the surroundings and where he can safely place his feet. Kane gives him a moment, simply observing as feet tap and slide in the grass and dirt, hands sliding along the bag to mentally measure the length of it. Tracking the man's heavy footsteps, the house owner can feel the warmth of the hunter scolding his side before the punching bag is hit a few times with a flat palm at eye level.

"You remember what a Vamp sounds like?"

"Of course I do! I'm kinda offended you even asked, I used to be able to take out a good portion of nests." Valli responds, his eyes snapping to the dull slap of the bag from Kane's hand.

"Good. This bag is a Vamp, bout your height. His head, right here." He slaps the top of the bag again, level with Valli's scarred eyes. "You have no weapon. You gotta fight him bare-handed."

In an attempt to stall the rest of the day, Valli asks. "I never fight Vamps without a weapon. What happened to mine?"

At the silence he gains, he fights the mischievous grin from slipping onto his lips. He can hear Kane snort, unimpressed, even if he plays along. "He knocked it from your hand. He's going to kill you. Fight him."

Valli hesitates, scared he'll manage to mess everything up or if this is the day he'll learn he is as broken as he had been thinking and saying. Shaking his head, a hand tentatively reaches out to gently push the broader man back. I so do not wanna hit Kane, he'd probably rip my arm off. Backing up, he balances his body and raises his arms. Trying to remember how he has done this before the last hunt, he throws a small jab weakly, to test the distance and force. When his fist hits the punching bag without an issue, he does it again, and again, until he builds confidence to get rougher. In the back of his head, the piercing eyes of Kane is felt. The man watches, circling. Occasionally comes in to physically correct Valli's posture and aim, he offers pointers and directs the blind man as if there was a real vampire in front of them.

Kane allows an hour of this. An hour of punching a bag, encouraging Valli to punch harder, quicker. He is impressed the younger is letting his mind shut off. Without doubting himself, he has been able to hit the top of the bag where a head would've been and has even tried a few short kicks to the sides. If he was cornered by a Vamp, he would be able to fight it fairly easily. Especially with sound cues; hissing, and snarling. Kane merely slapped where the head was supposed to be and Valli hit the mark and continued to hit the mark. While he wants to have the man do this for longer, this is only a test run to determine how much relearning the Safehouse Owner needs. The next test is up.

Resting a hand on the blind man's shoulder, he squeezes and lightly turns him. "Good job. Not even much of a sweat."

"I did good?" Valli repeats, disbelieving. He had gotten into a flow quickly, his mind blanking out to focus on Kane's words or light grazes to correct his form. While it felt good to get into a rhythm he missed, he still felt as if he could do better.

"Yeah," Kane grunts, leading the younger towards two small logs by his shoulder. "Next up, guns."

Eyes wide, the man's head snaps towards his voice in alarm. "Guns?! I told you, I haven't done more than clean and reassemble them! I can't shoot them again! I'll accidentally kill someone or something!"

"Nonsense." Is the only response, the older hunter pushing him down to sit on a log. He can hear Kane take a seat opposite from him, then the sharp, fast, and smooth sounds of a gun being taken apart. Firm fingers take hold of his wrist, guiding his hand down to touch the cool metal of a thick pistol. "The bullets are live rounds. I wanna see if you hit targets, can't do that with blanks. This is all I got, no fakes. Right now, you're gonna reassemble my favorite pistol."

"There's no special bullets, right? Not silver or wolfbane?" Valli questions, hands busy searching and getting a feel for the parts, how the gun feels in his hand. Before copying what has been taught since birth, he doesn't pay much thought to the process and only lets his hands pull, push, and snap pieces together. Quick and smooth, the scattered pieces on the mat Kane placed down are puzzled together under a minute later.

Handing over the weapon to the owner of it, Valli waits. He can hear Kane check his work, the gun's clicking and snapping revealing as much. After a moment, his shoulder relaxes at the pleased hum from the broader man. "These are normal rounds. I can make more, or Ma will loan me some next time I'm up that way." Kane replies, standing back up. "This is good. You can work with a foreign weapon, that's good. Stand up."

Quickly, Valli jumps to his feet, oddly ready to see what else he could do. His arms are beginning to be sore, but he is happy to feel the evidence of his efforts. It's been years since he felt aching muscles, not since he got used to the farm work. Then he spends all day inside, just cooking or reading. Being sore is rare these days for him, he can't believe he missed the feeling. Tracking the heavier man with his ears, Kane is directly in front of him, big hands directing his body to turn around. The thick, warm pistol is settled in his palm, heavy in his slim hand. He wonders what type of gun Kane prefers.

"There are targets set up. If you don't hit them — oh well, try again." The man's voice is at his ear, breath ticking his neck. Valli's eyebrow furrowed, lips parting to ask how he should know where targets were.

An abrupt hiss reaches his ears, and his body jumps into action as his mind supplies the direction of the growls and what may cause it. Vampire, that's a vampire hiss and growl. Up high. The gun is aimed up into the tree, Valli's breathing increasing as the sound seemingly gets closer to him and Kane. Not hesitating, the gun is fired three times in quick succession. Echoing throughout the property and scarring wild animals. The Vampire hisses stop, but his muscles are tense, the gun still aimed. Ready to fight or run, the buried hunter is alert inside Vallis's mind. Gluping, he feels Kane slowly remove the gun from his hand. The man squeezes his shoulder, firm and grounding. Ordering, "Wait here."

"That wasn't a real vampire, was it?" He didn't want to sound afraid, but he did. He hadn't heard a Vampire up close since before the attack on his eyes, being unable to fight one would spell horrible for him. They're fast and sneaky bastards.

Climbing the tree, Kane tosses the hay dummy onto the ground at the other's feet before letting himself drop the short distance. His ankles whine, yet he ignores it to check over the head cushion and fabric. Crouching, he spots the two holes in the body of worn fabric and wire, hay is ripped and loose. One bullet hole is noticed in the corner of the cushion. An inch to the left, and Valli would've got a headshot, as it is, the bullet missed only slightly and left behind a small hole on the trim outlining the pillow.

"Come down here." He grips the slender wrist again, pulling the scarred down into a crouch as well. He guides long fingers to the two body shots, allowing Valli to feel his accuracy. If it was human, or special bullets for monsters, he may have just killed the target. As it is, they're normal bullets and it's a hay dummy. Impressive for a rusty, sightless man. He watches the retired hunter gasp as he realizes what happened, what he is touching. Moving the man's hand, Kane directs his wrist toward the 'head' on the cushion. "You almost got a perfect headshot. Bit to the left is all you need. But you got two body shots, that's enough for me or Addy to finish the job."

Valli can merely blink, his finger running over the half circle of what could've been a good shot. In shock, it takes a moment for Kane's words to process. Then he grins widely, gleeful, and an overwhelming sensation of euphoria spreads throughout his veins. "I — I did it!! I shot a gun again and actually did kinda good!"

Kane chuckles, rising to his feet, and is caught off guard as he is tackled in a hug, long arms around his waist tightly and a head of brown hair under his nose. His body goes rigid at the touch, but the excited mumbling and grin from Valli has him slowly relaxing. He grunts, hesitantly, and awkwardly returns the gesture.