"It's mostly dead." a young Hunter said with an uncertain tone. "Mostly.".
The two people behind, a man and a woman each looking older than 50, walked forward, being careful not to make sudden movements.
Chuckling at their nervousness, the Hunter offers the older couple a knife, with a sharp curved forward edge. "Which one of you would like to do the honors?".
The couple looked at each other, eyes filled with tears.
As if they communicated through thought, the man stepped forward and handled the knife, his calloused hands gripping the knife's rough and worn leather handle.
This isn't the first beast that the knife will kill, and looking at the age of the Hunter, the man very much doubts it'll be the last.
"Where do I...stab it?" the man says, voice trembling. The Hunter crosses his arms and hums a note, thinking.
"Well going by the type of rock on this one's skin and the heat it gives out, it's a northern type, so anywhere besides its stomach'll do.
" replies the Hunter with a casual tone, surprising the couple, before the Hunter places their hand on the man's shoulder and continues with a smile "That is, unless,
you want us all to burst into flames.". Silence follows for a moment, until the woman , realizing it's a joke, causing the man to laugh too, easing the mood.
The man runs his hand across the rock scales, which were but a degree too cold to burn him.
The cracks follow after smooth rock scale, until he reaches one of the many gaps in the scales, evidence of the battle before,
where endless amounts of blood pours from and nothing but the nock of an arrow sticks out. The beast huffs as the man places the needlelike tip of the knife at its uncovered throat.
The hand still on the man's shoulder gives him the courage to stay still. He breathes. In. Out. In. Out. In...slides the knife.
The beast doesn't react more than a huff, after loosing so much blood, as the knife plunges deep into its throat.
A haunting sound, or lack of sound, fills the air around them. No words are spoken until the soft sniffles of the woman fills the deafening silence.
The man briefly struggles to hold back his tears, and fails. Streams roll down the couple's faces, the man's hitting the now bloody knife in his hands. Shrugging, the Hunter reaches out.
After blankly staring for a moment, the man apologizes before handing the knife back, along with a hefty filled small bag, still weeping.
The Hunter turns, and starts walking, patting the woman on the shoulder before passing by.
As the Hunter walks back to their cart, another Hunter greets them, smiling. "So did you ever find the dragon that killed that kid?" asked the second Hunter.
After shaking the bag they received in front of the second Hunter's face, the Hunter smiles, then chuckles.