David ended the exchange there, and promptly walked down the beaten path, toward his home. Fallen leaves cracked and crinkled underneath David’s feet as he trekked home, letting his mind wonder about the supposedly “dangerous” mission. Of course it’s going to be dangerous; danger is my line of work, after all, He thought, shrugging Zero’s warning off and continuing home.
Smoke was puffing from the chimney of the small brick and thatch cottage that David called his home. It was homely, and looked warm and inviting. He walked to the front door and grasped the knob, turning carefully. The door made a quiet squeak as he opened it, alerting his ears-of-a-bat Guardian of his arrival. She greeted him with a “Hello, David” from the open cellar door, which led to an underground training room, as she herself was a Slayer, albeit retired. David carefully removed his boots and coat and placed them in the floor and on a rack respectively. He ran his fingers through his short but unruly hair, and sighed.
He trudged through the warm home, approaching the cellar door that had been left precariously open by his guardian, and began to descend the stairs into the expansive depths of his dwelling. When he reached the trough of the staircase, he glanced around at the well-lit room. A familiar sight, he knew the room well. After all, he had spent many hours down here training and being instructed in the ways of the Slayer: how to throw knives, bless water, widdle stakes, and sword-fight. He knew it well, and his teacher did not let up. She would scold him severely if he missed his mark at being exceptional. While this was true, it didn’t mean that he was seldom rewarded. The meals cooked by his guardian were fantastic when he did well.