The hunter

Note: Wrote a human/deathclaw fic because I couldn't find any. Also because I didn't want it to be just "monster rapes girl" or "horny monster misteriously has sex with girl just because" I do like monsters (a lot!), but I'm not a big fan of helpless damsels being taken by monsters.

So I decided to do it myself, and gave it a different approach. Also, did some research on animal trapping and hunting. Impossible to be fully realistic, but I didn't write magic either. How *could* you have sex with a deathclaw, anyways?

I always welcome reviews. English is not my main language. And in this specific case, it's the first time I write sex. I would like to know what's good, what needs improvement, what should I avoid, what works and what doesn't... All feedback is very welcome.

[Some edits later]: Thanks for the reviews! They definitely helped and encouraged me.

Where: No specific place from any of the games. Somewhere in the wasteland.
Who: A self-employed wasteland hunter (woman). No one from any of the games.

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The hunter was patient. Life in the desert wastes was demanding, and you couldn't get far doing things fast and wildly. She lived and breathed patience. Waiting for hours under a relentless sun was a minor challenge for her. The sweat made her clothes uncomfortable and sticky. Every time she touched the sniper rifle propped in front of her, the metal burned her hands. The only sound in the boiling air of the plain was the never-ending buzzing of insects.

But she could bear it. She was patient, and persistent. If a plan ever went wrong, she started over again. If the perfect conditions didn't meet, she postponed it. She couldn't have survived this far is she had given up the first time, or if she stopped to cry and lament every time something didn't work. No, the hunter wasn't like that. However, there was no one around to appreciate that virtue.

She looked away from the telescopic sight, placing her chin in her hands. The old boards of the ruined attic creaked under her weigh when she moved her body, stretched out and tense. Sighting, she looked at the horizon with naked eyes. Patient, and calm.

The hunter took everything she needed from the wastes, and whatever she couldn't find there she obtained from civilization. However, she wasn't an habitual traveler. She stocked up medicines, spare parts and ammunition whenever she crossed paths with merchants, and only on extremely rare occasions she visited the settlements. The hunter was at peace living in the desert. Alone. Free.

Sighting with a smile on her lips, she held her useless weapon one more time. Her last bullet had been spent months ago. The hunter liked to travel light, but she liked it too much to leave it behind. The telescopic sight was essential for her everyday survival, and even more on that specific plan.

She stretched her arms in front of her, not only from tiredness but also to reach the nuka-cola bottle resting beside her backpack. She finished the last swigs of the sweet liquid, frowning at how warm it was. At least it made her mouth a little less dry. She had been waiting for hours. She was ready to wait many more.

She was used to waiting, and rarely the waiting made her nervous. Only in the last few moments before the success of a plan she felt a tickling, and she had been waiting for this one an awful lot of time. And no matter how coolly she wanted to play it: her own life was at stake.

But she smiled and waved off the fear while thinking of the price. She was no common wastelander. She was the hunter.

A movement in the horizon caught her eye, making all her muscles tense at once. She was being needlessly cautious. The ruins of that house were sound, and barely made a noise. And the figure she was stalking was too far away to hear anything, anyway.

She examined it with predatory eyes, and only confirmed it when she looked through the sight. Her lips curved in a smile. She sighted with some contained delight and excitement. The last part of her plan was finally beginning.

A spiky crest was visible among the rocks, though it wouldn't be easy to distinguish for an untrained eye. But natural camouflage wouldn't fool the hunter. She had been working on that plan for a long time, working out and anticipating every possible problem. A deathclaw wasn't something to be taken lightly. Without heavy weaponry, the only possibility was to act like a deathclaw: furtive, intelligent. The hunter made an art of it. Her resources were limited. She needed to act cautiously every day to ensure her survival.

That plan, however, had nothing to do with survival.

The deathclaw stood out amongst the rocks. His movements, his sly walking was unmistakable. Between them laid a vast plain and a rocky field, but the hunter knew well the deathclaw wouldn't walk towards her position. That way was too exposed, he preferred the protection of the rocky ravine.

However, she knew the way through that rocky labyrinth as well as he did. She had studied every possible way, the quickest paths, the best location to carry out her plan. A small open clearing filled with old rusty cars happened to be the perfect location. And essential to her intentions.

She could now see the monster, the agile lizard that scared the settlements. The creature walked, always alert and ready, but definitely not suspecting a thing.

Surprisingly, the snap was heard from her position. The hunter didn't even blink. She couldn't see the deathclaw's legs from there, but she saw how the creature stopped and turned back, visibly upset.

Though she couldn't make out the details, the creature was clearly struggling. The hunter sighted. The trap was working.

It was merely a foothold trap, designed for bears. No matter how big and menacing, it wasn't a particularly difficult challenge for a deathclaw. Their strength was very real. It would only work if combined with a different course of action, exactly what the hunter had planned.

The deathclaw had trapped his feet, but the hunter waited. The deathclaw was clearly struggling, but seeing as he didn't keep walking in any direction, the hunter assumed he had been correctly trapped. A metal chain should be firmly strapped to his claw now, with a bit more elaborate safe, and two ends strongly tied to the wreck of a truck, and a strong rock formation. That would limit greatly the deathclaw's movements.

Cautious, the hunter waited several minutes, observing. She expected it to break free and walk away, but that never happened. She decided to continue. Given enough time, the deathclaw would break free. That was a certainty. Those creatures were stubborn survivors.

The hunter took her rifle, her backpack, and looked at the horizon before descending the attic. At the bottom of the ladder the rest of her equipment awaited and, quickly, she got ready for the hunt.

She propped the rifle and backpack on a corner. That part of the wasteland was rarely traveled across, so nobody would steal it. She took her combat shotgun and strapped it to her back, as well as a canvas bag she put around her chest. Finally, she took her most extravagant possession., the weapon that had inspired her whole plan in the first place. It was a rare military crossbow, probably the piece of a weapon collection. It was a modern, high-tech design, something odd for such an antique weapon. However, she had tested it and immediately realized the potential of those darts. They didn't hurt much by themselves, but equipped with the right substance they made the weapon very valuable.

The huntress began her march. Letting the prey weaken and tire itself wasn't necessary for her plan. She realized the foolishness of that, and with every step more and more doubts awakened, but she couldn't just back out now. No, the hunter would succeed. She sighted, and smiled. She wasn't afraid. In fact, the closer she got, the more decided her mind was.

Her heart was racing wildly, but she knew she had to keep her mind cool. Her plan was complex, and her actions had to be perfectly timed. She needed to be fully concentrated, because this wasn't an ordinary hunt.

She arrived and walked down the rocky ravine, thankful for the occasional shadows and the faint breeze alleviating the heat of the sun. She could perfectly hear the deathclaw now, growling, scratching the ground, shaking the chain and the trap trying to scape. Wastelanders that encountered or had the chance of observing those creatures were usually surprised by their quietness. The lack of loud, dramatic roars only added to their fearsomeness.

Not even when the hunter appeared in front of him he roared loudly. He just stared, snarling, suddenly tense. The hunter wasn't intimidated by his stance. She just smiled, and kept walking.

The deathclaw jumped towards her, violently, trying to cover the distance between them. However, he couldn't move beyond where his feet was trapped. It was hurting him, but he kept pulling anyways. He dug his claws in the ground and tried to pull his whole body behind him towards the hunter. But there was no use.

She stopped several meters away from him. Carefully, she took a small package from the bag. Four darts where delicately kept there. She had four chances. If she failed all of them, she would have to give up her plan. She loaded the crossbow with one of the darts, with extreme precaution. Failing now would be very frustrating. The best part had just begun.

The creature didn't notice, or didn't feel threatened by the weapon. Either way, that wasn't her intention. She knew she had to stay calm and aim well, no matter how forceful the monster was in his struggle. And he was very vigorous in his attacks. He growled, but the real threat was effectively announced by his claws. They promised death.

The waiting was putting both on edge. The deathclaw, because the hunter was just standing there. Completely still, and silent. And she, because she felt the deathclaw was going to get loose any minute, and fulfill the promise his claws were making.

But the perfect moment arrived for the hunter. The deathclaw tried to crawl forward one more time, putting his left hand on the ground. The hunter shot, and the dart hit right where the skin was tender enough, near his left shoulder. She lowered the crossbow, and observed.

In minutes, the deathclaw started moving his arm with difficulties. He noticed something was wrong, and slowed his attempts at breaking free to examine the crippled limb, trying to raise his left claw.

The hunter moved, slowly. She propped the crossbow against a rock. The hardest part had just begun.

She took a set of chains from her canvas bag, and quickly set it up while she approached from the creature's left flank.

The deathclaw never stopped looking at her every movement. He still tried to reach her, using his numb left arm as a precarious support, furiously pulling his wounded foot.

This chain was light. Not even half as good as the one she had used to secure the deathclaw's foot. But it was all she had, and it was good enough to work as she intended. She couldn't use a rope, but this was light enough to trap the deathclaw's arm. It had two heavy metal weighs attached. But the hunter was tough, and she was strong. She started swinging and spinning the chains over her head.

His left arm was vulnerable, now separated from his body. The perfect moment. The hunter released the weighs towards his forearm, and the chain got entangled strongly around it.

She felt the rush of adrenalin as she started pulling the chain. The deathclaw, surprised, used his body weigh to pull back when he couldn't do it with his arm. But the hunter was quick, minding the creature's right arm. She surrounded the creature, running, pulling with all her strength, knowing she couldn't hold him forever. The creature kept pushing backwards, but the hunter was putting his numb arm into an awkward angle, and that made the struggle even more complicated.

She finally reached the car behind the deathclaw, one of the few signs of humanity left on that part of the wasteland. All the remains of machines laying around the area looked the same, long ago stripped of their color, now becoming the color and texture of sand and rocks.

The deathclaw frantically tried to correct his stance, but the trap and the hunter were ruthlessly pulling in complete opposite directions. He was pushed over the car, his right leg tighter as the hunter tied back her chain. Finally, in a rush of optimism, the hunter tied the chain to the internal structure of the car. She didn't let go until it was totally secured.

But she succeeded. She had spent days making sure the ruined metal of the pre-war car were strong enough for that purpose. And there it was.

The deathclaw lied face-up, with his back lying on the car, and his pale abdomen bathed by the sun. He arduously pulled from the chain in his left arm, and the trap in his right leg. He growled, and snorted, slightly less than before. It almost looked like he was admitting his defeat... or thinking a new plan to escape.

The hunter wouldn't give him that chance. She took a rope from her bag. The deathclaw still waved his strong right arm trying to reach her, or the rest of his own body. His other free leg kicked in the air and, though dangerous, it didn't pose the same thread.

Just like cowboys had done through centuries, and just as the hunter had learned in her youth, she started spinning the lasso above her head. As soon as she had the chance, she threw it trying to catch the creature's hand.

She failed, and for a moment she felt panic, but her throat was dry and her faint scream was muted. Luckily, the rope didn't get tangled in the deathclaw's hand. That would have shredded the rope, and seriously limited the plan's next steps.

She tried again, growling triumphant as she got his forearm strongly tied. However, his strength seemed limitless. She had to struggle to avoid being dragged. She held herself against the car, biting her lip when the thick rope started to hurt her hands. She barely made it to the second point she had prepared to tie the rope. The deathclaw's fearsome weapons were now dangerously close to her, as she tied a strong, complicated knot.

But she was a hunter. She stood cool tying that knot, while sharp claws hovered above her head. Once the knot was tight, she retreated.

She waited. She couldn't rush her plan, not being so close. She was catching her breath, and carefully observing the deathclaw's movements from her position behind the car. The lizard had his mouth open and raised to the sky, tensing his muscles, trying to break free.

He arched his back and neck, and looked at the hunter behind her. She held the stare. He looked angry, but his eyes seemed to ask what the hell she was doing... Or what kind of game was she playing.

The hunter smiled. In the end, it was just a game. A dangerous one, but the prize was promising for both. Of course, the deathclaw couldn't even imagine that, and the hunter wasn't able to explain it to him. At least, for now.

Several tense minutes passed. The knots in the rope were as strong, and the rope itself was intact. The hunter checked, and there was no edge cutting it. She was still worried about the claws, about the creature being able to reach the rope and cut it. If that happened, it meant death. She examined his struggle closely, noticing that the angle had worked, and that he couldn't bend his wrist towards the rope itself. Only when she felt that part perfectly secured she decided to continue.

With the other chains holding without trouble, only a leg remained. She circled the creature again, moving close to his remaining foot. He kicked towards her when she got closer, also moving his tail, but he didn't reach her.

She took the last rope from her bag and put it away, next to the crossbow. The deathclaw looked at her, attentive, almost curious. He wasn't growling anymore, but there was still hate in his eyes, along with curiosity when she took out the rope. He definitely knew what that rope was for. His gaze was intelligent, and the hunter could only reply with a playful, seductive smile.

She considered letting that last leg free. It didn't pose a thread as big as his arms, and he was well immobilized. It could mean trouble if she got distracted, something that normally wouldn't happen. But, considering the nature of her plan, it was likely to happen. Maybe it wasn't a big deal if that leg got free, but she decided to secure it anyway.

She tied the rope to a nearby rock. The deathclaw didn't appreciate it. The hunter looked back at him, expectant.

Without his claws, and his muscular torso exposed, he was in a quite vulnerable state. He seemed to get tired of struggling, and for a while he just looked at the hunter. Only his tail moved slightly, up and down, between his crudely spread legs. The hunter knew that the member wouldn't give her trouble. Though strong, it's main function was balancing the deathclaw's body when running and jumping. It wasn't meant for fighting.

The hunter took her shotgun. She stared at the lizard's body, tense and muscular, covered in dust and rough like the ground in the wasteland. Though cautious, she couldn't deny the pleasure and triumph she felt. After all, she had immobilized one of the most fearsome creatures in the wasteland... with only a minor wound.

She approached the creature. Another step, and she was within the range of his tail. He kept his arms and legs completely tense, though he remained quiet, as the human got closer with each step, a shotgun in her hands.

It was a necessary precaution. She couldn't bring flowers to that date. If something went wrong, she would have to use the shotgun to blow his head. It wasn't nice, but that was life in the wasteland.

The hunter kept moving forward. The deathclaw hit her boots with his tail, but soon she was too close to his body to make any difference. With the tail between her legs, the hunter looked at her prey, defiant.

“Well, my friend...”

The hunter cleared her throat, making her voice less hoarse and more seductive. The voice of a woman that's not going to kill her prey. The deathclaw looked at her, breathing heavily, but silent. His powerful torso moved, up and down, every muscle tense under his scaly skin.

“I've been following you for some time... I guess you didn't notice me.”

She didn't want to chat. The monster just looked at her.

“I could explain to you what I am about to do, but you wouldn't understand...” The hunter laughed. “My god, I don't think you were expecting anything like this...”

She felt a bit insecure when she left her shotgun by his waist. She couldn't help but feel it was reckless, but she decided to take the risk. The powerful deathclaw lied completely vulnerable in front of her, with his strong legs pulled apart, and his arms immobilized. And she couldn't help but feel the sweetness of the moment. The best moment of her plan.

She felt somewhat vulnerable, too. With her shotgun lying a meter away from her, she was only carrying her clothes: a tank top, jeans and boots. That wasn't adequate to confront a deathclaw. Though she wasn't confronting it, exactly...

She stretched her arms forward, putting her hands on the creature's abdomen. He flinched and puffed, completely on edge. The hunter raised her eyes and held them there, as her hands caressed the scaly muscles.

The beast's body felt strong and hard, as it was to expect from that wasteland dragon. The scales felt more like rough skin under her fingertips. It was pleasant, and the hunter could feel the extreme tension underneath.

She raised her hands a bit more, leaning forward. The deathclaw felt threatened. For a moment the hunter feared not being able to complete her plan, not being able to get the answer she wanted from him. But it was too soon, anyway.

Unable to reach further, the hunter straightened up again. She raised a leg and crossed it over the creature's thigh. Seeing as he didn't get upset at that, she raised the other. She felt the deathclaw's strong body between her legs, and her heart raced almost as fast as the monster's. Did he understand her intentions?

The hands were the hunter's most valued tool. She survived thanks to them. She hunted, laid traps, used and fixed weapons, took apart animals, built shelters and lit fires with them. Her hands weren't meant to caress a lover, to sensually trace his body and hold onto him. But, surprisingly, they were doing that job quite well.

The deathclaw was still tense, but something had changed in his attitude. Astride on top of him, the hunter was tenderly massaging his body. He wasn't in pain. There was no cutting or piercing... Only her weigh, her heat, and her hands' pressure.

His tense body reached it's peak when the hunter started to move her hands downwards, and began to massage a much more sensible area. The skin there wasn't as callous, and for a good reason. The deathclaw's protection was weaker there, and the hunter knew exactly why.

There was a skin fold there, easy to miss for those untrained. The hunter wasn't an expert, but by observing other animals and species over the years she knew how it worked quite well. Intuition, however, still had great importance. Would her improvised technique be enough to make his body react?

The deathclaw fidgeted under her. He didn't look tired, and a good strong shake would easily get rid of the hunter. But he moved only because he didn't feel fully comfortable... As the hunter's hands massaged the tender skin on his tail's base, and that feeling was certainly out of place in a situation like that. He didn't feel it was the time, or the way.

His heavy breathing now wasn't a result of his physical efforts. The hunter could well see the excitement building on him, as he even closed his eyes for a second. She smiled.

Maybe he was fighting his instinct. At least, trying. If deathclaws were anything like men in that department, it wouldn't take long until he lost.

The monster had been alone for months, anyway. Even longer, as fast as the hunter could tell. He spent every day doing the same, traveling alone north to south and south to north, hunting small animals and drinking water. Maybe he appreciated that chance...

The monster's member irremediably started to emerge from the slit in his tender skin. The hunter felt a rush when she realized there was no turning back now. She felt her legs weaken, but she was not tired at all. Still touching only the surrounding skin, she tried to reach her boots, and untied them quickly.

She didn't want to stop her contact, but she didn't want to fall behind either. She had started to feel her own heat, invading her body, her legs, a sweet heat that made her smile nervously.

She neared one of her hands to the beast's emergent member, touching it slightly. The deathclaw snorted. He didn't think any of that was funny. However, his arms relaxed. The hunter took her other hand and rubbed her own abdomen, slowly reaching her pants and caressing the point in her body that demanded it most. The rope and the chain would take a lot less pressure now.

She untied her pants while she massaged the deathclaw's tender skin. That flesh felt much different, tender, soft, an moist. Just as the deathclaw's organ.

The hunter spent a lot of time feeling thirsty in the wasteland. She was pleasantly surprised at the wetness her body was producing, and thought it funny that her mouth still felt dry. But it didn't matter. The loud need of her sex eclipsed any other. Her fingers were keeping that urge at edge.

She grabbed the deathclaw's member. He only snorted. Maybe he felt frustrated, unable to avoid exposing his most vulnerable organ. He wasn't looking at the hunter. He was tense. But maybe he didn't fear for his life anymore...

The hunter shuddered when her fingers circled around the deathclaw. Not fully erect yet, and it was still big. It needed to be inside his body for protection, but one wouldn't think that seeing how powerful it looked. Just as the rest of his anatomy, it was intimidating, but the skin wasn't as strong. Though soft and fleshy, it was still powerful. The hunter had imagined it like that, as it was perfectly fitting for a creature like the deathclaw.

He wasn't struggling anymore, only his chest moved up and down, only the muscles of his waist were tense. His eyes were closed, he looked like he was trying to repress his excitement. Maybe he felt humiliated? The hunter considered that possibility, but she couldn't regret it now.

She felt ready for anything now, and under her, the deathclaw seemed ready too. Her hand circled now a fully erect deathclaw penis, ready and steady, an impressive length rising like a tower.

The hunter smiled for a moment, considering going down on him. Many men had asked her before, she had never done it in any of those occasions. Why was she considering it now? She decided not to do it, though. Her mouth was too dry anyways. It wouldn't be practical.

The deathclaw opened his eyes from time to time, arching his neck. He started to lose his stoicism, surrendering to pleasure, enjoying the heat from the hunter's body, delighted at how she handled his moist, strong member.

He looked at her when he felt her raise and step back, abandoning his torso. He growled when he felt the absence.

The hunter smiled seductively, but also hurried. She left her boots and pants next to the shotgun, and took a moment to caress her breasts through the fabric. The deathclaw wouldn't care about that, but she did. She only lowered her shoulder straps, but let her breasts free. She rubbed them faintly, delighted, as it was something she didn't do often enough. And it was glorious.

She sat astride again on the beast. Feeling his body against her naked skin was enough to make her moan faintly. His waist and legs felt tense underneath, his rough skin pleasant against her tender thighs. And just before her, his member. Long, hard, defiant.

The deathclaw seemed to try to hide his impatience. His flesh shined under the wasteland sun, incredibly close to her own moist flesh and tender body. The hunter put her sex close to the deathclaw's. Both gasped at the contact.

The hunter rubbed herself along the shaft as best as she could, playfully teasing both him and herself, rubbing up and down, spreading the sticky wetness that made her slide gracefully. The deathclaw now puffed heavily, his head laying backwards. The hunter wanted to hug passionately his strong body, but she'd had to do one thing at a time.

She leaned forward and held herself on her hands, strongly rubbing herself along the deathclaw's length. It looked even bigger then, powerful and burning. Even the monster moved his waist from the pleasure, rhythmically back and forward. The hunter knew she could reach climax like that. She arched her back and her breasts moved gracefully with each thrust, but her body asked for something else.

Her legs were weak, and she was breathing heavily. The deathclaw seemed to share the same weakness, and moaned quietly with his mouth completely shut. He opened his eyes and looked at the hunter when he felt her stand up and, with a hand, guided his member inside her warm body.

Feeling the hard organ's pressure against her entrance made her moan, and it wasn't long until it slid inside her. Under her, the deathclaw moved slightly, delicately moving his waist upwards.

The hunter could take him, and took him slowly, feeling the length and girth filling her in a way she had never imagined as so delightful. She could feel every detail of the lizar's anatomy inside her, and his skin burned more than the wasteland sun. She rubbed her thighs against his skin, feeling his power between her legs, and the best part was how clearly the deathclaw was enjoying it.

He opened his mouth, making his lizard tongue visible behind his teeth. He closed his eyes, but even in the face of a monster like it, the expression of ecstasy was visible. The hunter was tight and warm, her pelvis thrusting softly, riding him up and down.

He moved with her, but not with a deathclaw's strength. After all, he wasn't mounting a female. It was a female, much smaller than him, who was doing all the work. And she was doing it perfectly.

The rough skin at the base of his member felt wonderful when the hunter rubbed against it, and she couldn't contain a moan when she felt her body lose. She stretched her arms forward one more time, but this time she leaned forward completely. She pressed her body against the creature, big and powerful. She looked at him, she looked at his threatening teeth and horns, defiant while she bit her lip. She kept her breasts pressed against his body, rocking back and forth, feeling the uncontrollable ecstasy that invaded her.

She arched her back inadvertently, while her legs snapped strongly the body between them. The wave of pleasure left her helpless but blissful, laying against the beast's body, while the last spasm inside her massaged the creature's member.

He was just as close. She used the wetness of her body and kept on riding him, twisting her pelvis vigorously with what little energy she had, only to satisfy the monster.

He started growling, but managed to contain himself when he reached his orgasm. All his muscles tensed and relaxed at once, his breathing stopped for a second, and panted afterward.

The hunter laid on his body for a moment. With sadness, she kissed his skin once before retreating. The deathclaw didn't feel it on his rough skin.

With care, she pulled him out of her, feeling his liquid slide inevitably down her thighs, and on the deathclaw's belly. She took a moment to look at him , and she admired the creature she had been stalking for so long, celebrating how intimately she had joined him.

He came to his senses again, not immediately, but somewhat alert again. He was staring cautiously at the human again, his eyes asking the hunter “now, what?” Should he trust her, or was she gonna hurt him anyway?

The hunter wanted to believe that the deathclaw had enjoyed that so much, he would consider it afterward, and that he wouldn't consider her a threat anymore. But she couldn't allow herself to think like that. If she was wrong, the deathclaw would cut her open with his hands. If by any chance she was right, it wouldn't mean anything in the end. They weren't new best friends. Maybe he would ignore her if he ever saw her in the wasteland. She could only hope so much.

The hunter knew she had to say goodbye. She felt sad, knowing she could never repeat that experience. Her plan had worked, but it was so risky that repeating it would be a guaranteed eventual failure. She took some solace in that she could always watch him in the wasteland. Through a telescopic sight and a secure position, anyway. It wasn't a goodbye forever...

She adjusted her tank top and put on her pants and boots again. She had time to tie them properly, as the deathclaw looked somewhat sleepy. She didn't think that would last long, but at least she could dress properly, and continued with the last touch, the ending of her plan.

She took her equipment from near the rocks again. Carefully, she loosened the safe in the deathclaw's right foot, knowing he would easily break free when he started struggling again. She then loosened the chain around his left arm. When he recovered control of the limb, he wouldn't have problems to break free, and with that hand he could cut the remaining ropes.

If the hunter ever told somebody over the settlements about what she had done, she was sure that the worst thing in their eyes would be letting him go unharmed afterward. But could she really kill him now? She had spent a lot of time perfecting her plan, and with time she had developed very intense feelings for the oblivious creature. She couldn't just use him like that. The hunter was ruthless, and tough. But there weren't many things in the wasteland that meant to her as much as that monster.

She trotted down the same path she had used to get there. The deathclaw would break free, it was only a matter of time. He would smell her without problem, and would be able to follow her through a scarily long distance. Halfway towards the house, the hunter took two land mines from her now empty bag, and placed them between the last rocks before the field.

In the open flat she would have less places to hide, but her smell would be carried by the wind instead of leading her path along the rocky canyons. She arrived at the house, where she equipped her backpack and rifle again. She was ready to spend the entire night jogging towards the horizon.

She wasn't fleeing, it was just a necessary precaution. She couldn't let the monster find her, in case he wanted to kill her. And the hunter was too realistic to think he would want anything else from her... A second date, maybe.

Smiling at the setting sun, the hunter started running, till she became a dot in the distance, and then disappeared.

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