(…and here there was a jump in scenery because the Writer was sorely out of ideas and decided to skip ahead. *skip!*)

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“And this doesn’t strike anyone else as a bad idea?” Jon shot Tos an incredulous look but the older dog just looked bored.

“Bad why?” Hunter finished checking her weapon and looked over curiously. She’s faded out again, stark and solid only where her hands met the gun.

“Because you’re killing innocent people!” He gestured at the surrounding apartment complexes. “There are people who live here; boring, unimportant, every day people.”

“So?” She holstered the gun, and solidity rippled up from the hostler as she settled into reality.

“So–” he searched for something that might connect ‘bad’ and ‘death’ in a more meaningful way. “So, they’d be dead. People don’t like being dead.”

“True.” She frowned thoughtfully, “But they will be dead eventually, will they not?”

Jon looked to Akela for help but the alpha female was giving him the same confused look. Veil creatures had the same nonlinear grasp of death and Jon gave up the argument. “Alright, then don’t kill them because it will make me feel bad.”

“As you wish.” Hunter moved past him to the door of the motel room. Her Dog following behind only slightly heavier than a shadow.

His own Dogs were in various stages of existence, but they bore the same expressions of resigned frustration. He was probably the only Huntsman they’d ever had who’d insisted on minimizing collateral damage. Then again he was the only Huntsman in centuries that had finally completed the bloodgift and had been able to exert any control over Pack behavior.

He still wasn’t sure how much it helped.