Every race had their own methods for dealing with these sorts of problems. "Hunting" as the humans called it was every bit as messy and violent as the humans themselves. Because the methods that had worked so well on his world were surprisingly ineffective here, he was forced to use the methods the humans had honed over millenia of practice.
Barely suppressing a sigh, he loaded his shotgun with rock salt cartridges before putting in a set of earplugs and offering a pair to his wife who had just finished loading her own weapon. His marriage to his wife was almost as unconventional as his life's calling. Both were frowned upon at home. It had been the strong disapproval over his marriage that had driven him to continue following his calling which had been his father's sibling's calling and his forefather's calling as well on another world.
He had met his wife when he had rescued her from a sand spirit when they were teenagers. They had soon fallen in love though it was not the way of their people to admit to such things. Unfortunately, she was bonded to another and therefore not free to chose. Despite this, they had grown very close over the years, and over the years his wife had tried to get out of her bonding. Unfortunately, neither her father nor the father of her bondmate would budge on their positions regarding her future spouse. When the day of the marriage was finally at hand, they had made one final, desperate, and rather foolhardy choice. And to think, if they had just contacted her bondmate directly beforehand and explained their position he would have quite happily released her without all of the damage her and consequently his reputations had suffered as he wasn't too fond of her himself. As the humans say, "hindsight is 20/20".
As he and his wife approached the abandoned dwelling, he heard the sound of a scream and the sound of a shotgun going off. He raced inside the house with his wife close at his heels. Inside the living room was another "Hunter" holding a "sawed off" shotgun that looked to be a genuine antique rather than one of a more recent manufacture like those belonging to him and his wife. He was guarding two children who had apparently wandered into the house on a "dare". The "Hunter" whirled to face him.
"Stonn? T'Pring?" the "Hunter" asked, with only a raised eyebrow betraying his surprise.
"Spock!" T'Pring exclaimed.
"I have located the likely burial site. Would you two deal with the body while I locate the third child?" Spock asked, immediately "getting down to business" - as the humans would say - as he handed over a data pad and responsibility for the two children he was currently protecting.
As T'Pring ushered the two children out of the house, Stonn found himself turning to look at Spock. There were several things he wanted to ask him, but the first question that came out was "How did you...?". He wasn't usually at a loss for words, but this situation was somewhat surreal in a way he didn't quite know how to deal with. While finding "his wife's ex" - as the humans would put it - here was bizarre enough, the question that ran through his mind was "How did a scientist from a family of scientists who wouldn't believe in the things he dealt with every day even if they saw them with their own two eyes and wouldn't know what to do with a sand spirit if it "came up and bit him in the butt" - as the humans put it - become a "Hunter"?
Spock apparently understood what he was asking.
"I learned over several summers spent with my maternal grandmother Samantha Winchester Grayson." Spock replied.
Stonn would have paused to consider the revelation that Spock too followed a family calling, but he had work to do and he would have to hurry to salt and burn the bones before harm befell the third child in the house. He had little doubt that Spock would be able to take care of himself, as he was trained by a member of a family that had been in the field for centuries.