Fingers raking through sun-lightened curls, Callon eyed the woman leaning casually against the side of his world-weary Airstream. Her hair was cropped as short as Callon’s own, and slicked back from sharp green eyes with a mix of rainwater and attitude. She looked about as friendly as the feral cat that’d taken up residence beneath his trailer.
“Rather inappropriate for hunting,” she said, cocking a finger at the plastic Target bag hanging heavy from his arm.
Callon grinned, hefting the hidden crossbow. “Less conspicuous. So…you found where I live.”
“I just looked for the shittiest trailer park.”
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: live, inappropriate, target)