Amber craned her long neck up and scented the air around. The sight in her black eyes was keen but it wasn't her eyes that truly allowed her to hunt, it was her nose and her ears. Humans were so reliant upon their vision because the rest of their senses were so pitiful but Amber wasn't limited to weak human senses. She was beyond her a pathetic human form and it was because of her nature as a true predator that she had been able to survive the end of the world.

Amber clicked and chittered at her hunting companion as she loped along at a casual pace towards the town. Silence wasn't yet called for, although that would come in time, as she got closer to her destination. There was always potential prey around the town and she needed to ensure her pack remained well fed. Hunting inside the town, of course, wasn't very smart and it had only taken once to convince her of that fact. There were always stragglers, however, who were either too desperate or too stupid to know better than to remain outside its borders, especially at night. There were hunters at night.

As Amber came towards a landmark, a particular decapitated building, she slowed her pace and gestured towards her packmate for them to be silent. Once again she sniffed at the air, this time catching the scent of something alive. She pointed in the direction of the scent and nodded, certain that her packmate would remain by her side. They had done this many times before and woud do this many times to come, should be both continue to remain alive. Pack protected pack.

With an effort for silence and remaining in the many shadows the buildings created on the desolated landscape of what had once been a city, Amber began stalking her prey. As was her usual nature, she went in her deinonychus form; her true form if anyone was to ask. No one did. It was the perfect mixture of speed, strength and superior senses. Her prey didn't know they were hunted yet, but it was only a matter of time before the realized it and by then it would be too late.

The dogs were digging the ground at a rather fast pace, always following their master's orders. He held an old shoe wrapped in cloth in his hand, one of a pair he had taken from a dead bandit's body while the other would soon be unburied along with many other things he kept stashed with it.

Even though he trusted most of his friends and allies at the town, a lot of them lived in tents or insecure housing, sharing many things and it was very easy to lose track of your own items or simply get them stolen. This was Miles "safe", where he kept his greatest personal treasures and the shoes were the "key" to give his dogs a scent and let them track the stash down. No one would steal an old shoe, specially with it's twin missing and whenever he felt like burying more stuff, he'd head out to this particular patch of earth surrounded by concrete amidst the shadows of empty buildings. He'd always do it at night, away from prying eyes.

The dogs unearthed the other shoe wrapped in cloth as well and under it was an old wooden box. Miles opened it and rummaged through his "treasure". There was the old keychain his grandfather had given him as a "graduation" present for learning how to drive his pick up truck at the tender age of thirteen and the watch his own old man had given him as a birthday present, it's battery long dead. A picture of his sister he used to carry in his wallet, his school ID badge from when he joined Xavier's and a few other things more useful and less sentimental that he kept for a rainy day, like a lighter, batteries, canned food, bottled water, a mirror and a small flashlight.

He had nothing from his mother though. Until today, that is. She was fond of wearing a necklace with a small jade medallion and matching earrings, back in much happier days and though it was impossible for him to find the exact same model in today's New York, he had managed to fetch himself a small jade ring he'd tied to a string to make it look like the necklace. It'd have to do.

He put it inside the box, closed it, placed the box in the hole and started burying it with his own hands, giving it the personal touch he preferred. The dogs were great at finding and digging his stash out but lousy at burying it back in.

Once that was done, he got up and wiped the dirt off his hands in his pants. He started walking back to town, Astor right next to him and Tinaker... Where was he?

The smaller dog had stayed near his stash, his head and ears perked up, trying to pierce the darkness with his red, glowing eyes, his stance cautious, his movements slow and... was his tail a tad between his legs? When was the last time he'd seen that happen?

These hunting trips were some of the happier times in Shane’s life. They reminded him of all the freedom and pride he’d felt when he lived in the giant national park all those years ago, tracking and hunting deer or other such prey to stay alive. Perhaps the selection wasn’t quite as consistent this time around, but he did have one added bonus this time around: a partner.

Amber had introduced a new type of hunting to Shane’s arsenal since he joined her and her little band of allies after the fallout. Shane had always been a predator of opportunity, like a spider. He’d waited for prey to wander under his perched position, then dive bomb down on them, usually suffocating them to death. Now though, while working in conjunction with Amber’s dinosaur forms, a different strategy was needed. One that was a little more aggressive and could keep up with her swift methods, and he’d heard that mimicry was the highest form of flattery.

It had taken a few attempts to perfect his own shift, but Shane managed to pull off a fairly convincing replica of Amber’s deinonychus form, aside from a slightly smaller build and a significant change in colour. He couldn’t replicate the sounds, but the image of the two of them was something most of their prey wasn’t mentally prepared for, which worked to their advantage.

His partner was the real leader of these operations. Her senses were far more impressive then his ever could be, so when she gave him the signal to move into position, he did as told until he could pick up the scent himself. She clicked at him a few times, and although the actual meaning was completely lost on him, he’d heard the pattern enough times to know that it meant the hunt was on.

The two of them split up after a short sprint to close in on the target. Just close enough that Shane’s own senses could locate who and what it was they were aiming for. He couldn’t see them yet, but between his nose and ears, he could tell at least one of the group they were advancing on wasn’t human. Once on their own, the pace slowed to a crawl as they stealthily advanced on their position, Shane moving in for the initial direct strike, leaving Amber to deal the final blow from their flank.

Shane was close enough now to see what it was they were hunting: a young man and two strange black dogs. The boy seemed harmless enough, but the dogs had the potential to cause trouble; perhaps it would be best to deal with them first. As they turned to leave the small cache they’d dug up and head back to the city, Shane hesitated as one of the hounds seemed to have spotted him, or at the least it was aware of him.

He started weighing the pros and cons of charging the dog, but the need to eat was way up on the top, and the faint chirping noises of his partner questioning what he was waiting for was all he needed to dive in to the problem head first. He was as silent as he could be, but was in full sprint, charging directly at the small dog. He was sure to show off his intimidating maw of razor sharp teeth, waiting for the pup to turn around and run off into Amber’s waiting grasp.

It wasn't stalking, per se. At least, that's what Gina kept telling herself. She was... curious? No, she was... concerned-- yeah, that was a good way to put it. Whenever she left the town, she kept to the skies and rooftops, safely out-of-reach of most if not all of the occupants of the city. The ground wasn't safe-- numbers occasionally helped, but not always-- and you never, ever left the Town by yourself. Miles had a habit of doing just that. It was the same thing, every single time-- he'd meander about, not always to the same spots. But eventually, he'd take the raggedy shoe, follow the dogs to the same spot every week.

Gina was trustworthy and honest, but she had a feeling that the other Townie wouldn't take kindly to being followed. So, she kept a casual distance. Would keep to the shadows of a lower rooftops while Miles did his thing. And, when he was ready to go back to the settlement, Gina would go back, too, and act as if nothing had happened. Gina sat on the rooftop, gaze casually drifting towards the boy, before meandering skywards. It wasn't stalking, it was looking out for your cohorts.

She didn't see the two hunters, thus was more preoccupied with the rapidly-darkening sky. Funny, after everything had happened and the City had been left in shambles, how pretty the sky could still be. Things can still go back to normal. There is still hope.

The gargoyle girl sighed, leaning back as she allowed herself to be overcome by momentary calm.

"Come on, Miles," Gina murmured beneath her breath, her gaze squinting down at the huddled shape of her cohort, "Head back to the town. The box is still there, just like the last freaking time."

The boy began to stand, apparently satisfied, and Gina rolled into a crouching position. Finally. But he didn't move. Instead, he stood stalk-still, staring into the darkness. Come on, Miles. Move.