William regarda le petit déjeuner qui lui avait été livré ainsi que l'Ulfric. Cela ressemblait à un repas plutôt agréable, mais maintenant, je me sentais comme pas le temps de manger. Le chasseur a regardé le pistolet que Markus a posé sur sa cuisse, puis il a regardé en arrière pendant qu'il commençait à parler. Il écouta, plaçant ses deux mains sur ses propres cuisses et se penchant légèrement vers l'avant. L'Ulfric mit le pistolet sur la table à côté de lui, les yeux de William le suivant aussi. Tandis que le loup-garou s'assurait que la porte était verrouillée, William envisageait d'attraper le pistolet. Il a décidé de s'y opposer, estimant qu'agir maintenant pourrait compromettre ses propres chances de survie.
Le chasseur s'est redressé, c'est son tour de répondre. "J'ai entendu dire que deux de vos membres ont été tués, et que leur tueur n'est toujours pas identifié." Il a répondu en répondant à la première question. "Bien que j'aie pitié de leur mort, surtout plus maintenant que je vois que vous dirigez votre meute beaucoup plus civilisée que d'autres Ulfric que j'ai rencontrés. Mais leur mort n'était pas par ma main, et s'ils l'étaient, je sentirais leurs odeurs, n'est-ce pas? J'ai entendu deux coups de feu alors que je suivais des traces de loup dans cette cabane. » Le chasseur a réajusté son chapeau sur sa tête. "Les loups-garous et les chasseurs ont une attraction étrange l'un pour l'autre. Nous l'appelons simplement la « volonté de la chasse ». Peut-être sa simple coïncidence que nous paraissons toujours trouver l'un l'autre, ou que nous savons juste où chercher. »
Il soupirait, se frottait les yeux, se sentait encore un peu las de son repos interrompu. « Quant aux chasseurs que vous avez rencontrés dans le passé, je n'ai aucun moyen de savoir s'ils appartenaient ou non à l'Ordre de Hendrick. Il y a beaucoup de chasseurs indépendants, dont beaucoup ne sont pas d'accord avec la façon dont notre groupe se conduit. Bien que, c'est surtout de la politique et du drame, je suis sûr que vous n'avez aucun intérêt à entendre. Revenant sur le sujet à l'étude, le message que j'ai reçu à l'égard d'une grosse meute de loup-garou qui était en mouvement m'a informé que j'étais la seule près d'eux à l'époque, et nos autres chasseurs étaient occupés par leurs propres tâches. Ça n'aurait pu être aucun de nos chasseurs."
William a enlevé son chapeau, le mettant sur le lit à côté de lui. Il regarda Markus dans les yeux, l'intrépide clair de l'homme qui montre. "Je suis venu ici sans chercher à tuer plus d'innocents Ulfric, je suis venu ici pour chasser des bêtes. Si ta parole est vraie, que ta meute ne chasse pas les humains, alors je ne les chasserai pas. Mais le sang sera encore versé, et je ne peux qu'espérer qu'il n'est pas à vous ou à moi. »
William "Captain" Hendrick
Age:36
Gender:Male
Sexual Preference:Hetero
Human or Werewolf: Human Hunter

Appearance: Standing tall at 6'1 with a very built figure, William has a well trimmed mustache, and keeps his dark brown hair short and neatly tucked under his hat. His face appears worn, almost as if it had aged faster than it should have. His tired looking eyes, which some mistook that as a sign that he's exhausted, are a pale green in color.
Strengths:
+Strong
+Fearless
+Good Swimmer
Weaknesses:
-Mentally Scarred
-Slow Runner
-Stubborn
Personality:William is rather level headed and understanding towards people and beasts alike. However, he can come off as distant at odd times, but still intend to mean well. On a good day, he's rather talkative with strangers, and somewhat sarcastic at times as well. He can be rather courageous, and willing to go out of his way to help others if he feels they need it. On a bad day however, you may find that William will generally keep to himself and his whiskey, and spend hours reflecting on his life.
History:William Hendrick comes from a proud line of werewolf hunters. His father was a hunter, and his father's father, and so on. Specialized weapons had been crafted by some of his ancestors to aid the family line in their task of protecting humans from werewolves and other terrible night creatures. Most of his childhood was about trying to live a normal life, and keeping his hunter background a secret. His father taught him how to defend himself, and all the different techniques necessary in surviving an encounter with a werewolf. William slew his first werewolf when we was nineteen. The experience was invigorating, but it was something he didn't quite enjoy. He met a girl, whom later became his wife and moved down to the coast, where he spent his free time sailing on his sailboat. This hobby of his gained him his self appointed nickname "Captain." Though his background was surely going to bring trouble to his decent life, and it did. His wife was slaughtered by an aggressive pack of werewolves that lived in the area. When he discovered this, he was devastated, and filled with rage. William tracked the beasts, systematically slaying the ones he could find. Though he would encounter a rare few, that feared him more than man feared them. The cowardly ones, those that weren't out for blood, he would lower his guns and spare their lives. Eventually William felt it best to move on, and he wandered across North America, only stopping where he saw there were clear signs of werewolf activity. A year has passed since his wife's death, and he finds himself now in the Colorado Mountains, in a town called Odessa where he rented himself a motel room to rest up and get off the road for a short while..
Other: Wielding dual .44 revolvers, loaded with silver bullets, William delivers punishment to the werewolves he encounters. His arsenal however does not stop there however. Forged many years ago is a family heirloom that his father passed onto him. A shield attached by a chain to a wrist mounted device, weighs heavily on his left arm, but has protected him from many devastating blows. With this device, he can trigger blades inside the shield to extend outward, and chuck his shield towards his prey, and retract it with the chain. Whenever this shield is with him, or resting on his back, there is a distinct sound of a chain rattling lightly with each step he takes.
Other than that, he enjoys sailing, drinking, and finding new ways to kill night creatures.