Prismatic Hunter

A moment between moments. Every Hunter knows it. The breath between decisions, the weightless suspension in the air before gravity truly sets in.

I kindle flame. I enforce stillness. I embrace contradiction.

Listen, I say, this is how it is. We dance along a knife's edge. Laughter, delight, comes later. I slip from under a mark's nose and survive by the skin of my teeth, armor howling warning signals and weapons down to the last round.

I wouldn't want it any other way.