Garry T. Spoor
Copyright 2013 Garry T. Spoor
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Kile Veller sat alone, on the top of the hill, under the shade of an old oak tree as she watched the people go about their seemingly busy lives. A young girl of seventeen, long red hair that she keeps tied in a pony tail. An average girl with an average face, though some would say attractive, although she never liked her nose. It was her father’s nose and she had issues with her father. She was small, compared with most, slender, almost frail looking, but then why had she chosen to become a Hunter. The life of a Hunter was not something to be taken lightly. It was a life of solitude, a life of danger. She could handle the solitude, she liked the solitude… it was the danger that she had a problem with.