They didn't shift their gaze from Caustic, studying him. Sizing him up, even as Caustic coughed, green gas spilling out of his maw. Even as he asked them to call him Doctor. Distancing himself from them, in his own way. They take the hint. Not here.

"Ah, forgive me, Doctor." They bow their head politely.

They remember the Games, so recent and fresh in their mind. The blood, the other's green gas, oppressive. Blinding. They remember being paired with the scientist, the first time they felt the Hunt take over within the plumes. The thrill of realizing that they were the only one that could see, that they were unstoppable, in that corrosive cloud. The gas trap had blocked the door, and they'd been trapped in a room with another team. An accident that had proved deadly for everyone but them. It was a tactic they employed for the rest of that round, a tactic they kept in mind, when they were on opposite teams.

They had felt Caustic die by their hand, just as many times as he'd taken them by surprise, grabbing them and spraying them with a good faceful of the stuff. They'd teamed up with him just as often, as well.

Though they were wary of the gas, he was no enemy.

They hear another two animals approach, drifting their attention to them a large wiry haired hound-- was this who Aurum had spoken of? He certainly carried himself as such, and seemed to be looking at both them and Caustic in great interest. He speaks, asking Bloodhound not to kill him, wry little grin on his face.

Oh.

Their shoulders shake a little, and they try very hard to suppress their laughter.

"Oh no, I am not here to kill him. No bloth will be shed this day." They respond, shaking their head. Their laughter soon becomes a fit of coughing, and they have to learn how to breathe between the giggles. "I give you my word that I will not slátra anyone of Tanglewood."

As the coughing subsides, and the large dog introduces himself, Bloodhound clears their throat. "It is good to meet you, Leroy. May fate be on your side. I do intend to stay. The Gods have willed it."

Bloodhound turns their attention then, to the other stranger that had arrived, a small, dark kitten. He introduces himself, Ivan. A good name, Strong. He asks them if they know Caustic, wary. All fur and large eyes. Their heart melted, just a little.

"Ivan. I am glad to meet you." Bloodhound pauses, thinking carefully. "Yes. The Doctor and I know each other. We... worked together, for some time."

It was easier than saying that they participated in bloodsport.