thinking space - (red riding hood)

[hunter]

Hunter preferred being outside. He felt at home in nature like he couldn't do anywhere else. Even the little apartment he was renting didn't feel much like home to him. It was cosy enough, and had everything he needed, but Hunter couldn't feel truly at ease there; not while his son was hundreds of miles away with his parents in law. He should be there, looking after his child. The boy meant everything to him. Instead, here he was, serving the Queen and working odd hours just to scrape together enough money to keep himself afloat and send some home for Jacob. When he was young, Hunter's father had told him that what they did was a noble profession. Hunter didn't feel so noble now. He felt downtrodden and trapped. When you knew there was no way out, your world suddenly felt a whole lot smaller. He knew he had no one to blame but himself. He'd brought this upon himself when he'd let the Queen's step-daughter go free. He had disobeyed a direct order from his mistress, then, to make it worse, he'd lied about it. Still, he knew, deep down, however desperate his situation was now, that he had done the right thing. He was a huntsman, not a murderer. The girl had done nothing wrong. She hadn't deserved to die, and Hunter wasn't going to be the man who damned his own soul on the whim of others. He had always prided himself on his morals and principles and they had held strong in the moment when it could have been so easy to just give in and do as he was told. It would have been the easier road, but not the right one. Now, all he could do was deal with the consequences of that choice.

Hunter sank down on one of the benches that adorned the edge of the path at intervals; far enough apart that you could feel alone when you sat on one, but close enough that the next was always in sight. Hunter had already passed two benches but they had been occupied - the first by an old woman who had been muttering to herself, the second by a young couple, completely wrapped up in each other. He remembered when he had been like that with his wife. It had been eight years since he'd met her, five since she had died giving birth to their son. The three glorious years they had had together had been some of the best of Hunter's life. Now he was alone, broke and feeling at least twenty years older than he looked. Still, the bench he had eventually stopped at had a good view out over the park and it felt peaceful here. He didn't know how long he intended to stay here, but time to clear his head couldn't go amiss. He settled back against the wooden slatted back of the bench, folding his arms over his chest.

[rikubean]

Red sighed, hands in the pockets of her jacket. She walked through the park in a half-dazed state, thinking. It was extremely uncommon for her to lose track of her surroundings to such an extent, but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

It was all just so boring. Teach three classes, every day, the same things over and over. Not even getting to a bar could change the daily routine; there weren't enough of them for all the days of the week. Red knew most of the patrons by now, which took away all the excitement. She drank them all under the table, too.

That's all Tintagel was. Boring people in a boring little town. Well, sure, it had the random magical explosion or other, but even those could become predictable after a while.

Wistfully, she imagined she was back in the old forest she grew up in, where wolves could jump out at any moment and hunters would come to her rescue.

Red scuffed the toe of her boot against the dirt, scowling at the ground like it was its fault she was endlessly bored. She passed a sickeningly sweet couple and paused at the worn-out looking man at the next bench.

Something about him struck her in an odd way. Red crossed her arms and stared out at the park. "I don't know what about this place it is that I find appealing," she commented. "There's absolutely nothing here that I find exciting, yet there's an odd sort of homeliness I find here."

She smirked and sat down next to him without further preamble. "You look like you've seen a bit more action here than I've found. Name's Red."

[hunter]

Hunter had noticed the woman walking along the path but hadn't payed much attention. He wasn't the sort of guy whose eyes fell out everytime something with curves walked past. He had been, once, but life and experience had mellowed him. He had gone back to staring out across the greenery, but looked up when he heard the woman talk. She didn't look as though she was particularly talking to him, but there was no one else around.

Hunter had never been a rude man. He had been brought up to be respectable and hard working, kind and proper. He gave a little nod, coupled with a vague hint of a smile, when she spoke about the park. It was a lot like how he felt. This place was nothing like the thick forests and open heathland he was used to, but somehow the green and the fresh air provided a comfortable surrouding.

Hunter shuffled along the bench slightly - he had claimed the middle when he'd sat down - to give her room next to him. He wasn't overly sure why this complete stranger had chosen to talk to him, but he supposed a little normal conversation wouldn't kill him. "Hunter," he introduced himself, holding out a rough skinned hand to her. He hadn't exactly seen any action here - unless he counted the way the couple at the next bench along seemed to be devouring each others faces, which he didn't - but he could understand why his faintly lined, weary expression might make her think so. "I find it relaxing here," he said, shurgging slightly to explain his presence, sitting alone on a bench, in the middle of the park.