Pincher had shit to do. Specifically he didn't want to do. He had been spat out by the ocean and for what? Well, only now was he able to figure out why. He was meant to be some sort of fucking hunter for gods that demanded attention, their greed never satisfied. So Pincher had left the island in the dead of the night, swimming silently against the heavy waves to go search for victims that were not in the island. The canine's ink black figure blended well into the darkness as he continued on his hunt, jaws splattered with crimson blood. He had already taken a life that night and was preparing to take another. How many did these bastards desire? When would they be satisfied? Pincher's questions were offered but the gods remained silent as well as the voices, clearly not caring what Pincher thought about the situation. He was growing tired of the absense of voices, his gills opening and closing repeatedly as he swam through after traveling. As he grew closer, he managed to catch a scent that was not familiar and certainly not from the sea. His pepper black nostrils flared, spraying softly seamist into the air before diving into the water and swimming to where the other male was located at.

As he reached the railroad tracks, he broke once again through the murky ocean surface, his icy glacier blue eyes locking onto the cream-colored feline that awaited at the gate of the Typhoon's land before entering. Pincher stalked slowly out of the ocean to follow after the smaller male, velvety ears beginning to fold back in a state of suspicion of who this could be. Some stranger looking for trouble to spark controversy or was it some Tanglewood fucker that craved the attention of irritated sleep-deprived enemies. His long forked tongue slipped out of his jaws in frustration as he quickened his pace until he managed to cross the gate, his figure soaked and glinting from the pale silver rays of the bone white moon. "Oi. Who the hell are you and what are you doing coming into Typhoon territory?" Pincher called out, rumbling deep voice traced with warning as the lithe streamlined doberman went to trot past Alpha and block the tom's path to going any deeper into the rich tropical territory that slowly swayed in the lazy winds of the night. His glowing gaze narrowed as he stared down at Alpha, awaiting a response from the stranger that had found the island in the darkness.

There were times like this that Pincher really wished he had stayed at home with Goldie especially because he was aware how nervous his daughter appeared when she was not there for her to spot. He could understand her point of view, due to the trauma of seeing her father's corpse. So he didn't want to stay out too long but sadly he was forced into slipping into the night to head for the blood of any victims that weren't from the Typhoon. Luckily, he had managed to explain to the shrieking wails inside his head that he would not injure or murder any of his crewmates so they would have to deal with him going out into other territories and taking lives there. It tired him and brought guilt because Pincher was not fond of becoming a hitman, especially to do the bidding of magical forces that he could not even see.

His cool glowing aqua blue eyes widened ever so slightly, tar black pupils locked onto the plasma horns that now caused the pale emerald gaze of the stranger to glow. What the hell? He kept a calm expression stitched to his face though his upper lip slightly curled to reveal shark-like teeth ready to tear if Alpha was here to seek chaos in the volcanic island. Yet he seemed to introduce himself in a way that allowed Pincher to slowly relax from his jumpy paranoia of possible threats. A9? He raised a fictional eyebrow, quirking up with confusion. "A9? Sounds like a name you give an experiment." He wasn't dumb. There were creatures that were products of twisted science by humans or other creatures, he had met some before but not enough to truly understand what their purpose was. Some continued their missions while others decided to define themselves and not struggle with the burden of being considered something that they had never asked to become. His head tipped to the side, long silver rays of the moon outlining his face as he heard the name. Alpha. And then the smaller figure began to question where he was causing an amused glint to spark in his vibrant gaze. "Sound tragic indeed, sorry that happened to ya. But if you do need a place then I guess the Typhoon would be good. Like you said, you intend to pull your weight around here so I better see that, Alfie. By the way, name's Pincher. I'm the captain of the Typhoon aka the fucker in charge of you fucks." He rumbled, giving a faint tip of his head towards the slender male but before he could speak more about how things were done, he felt slight movement and glanced down.

Cronas. The young Striker was certainly a specimen of curiosity for Pincher. He didn't seem like what generic kids were considered as. He didn't seem to have much emotions or perhaps lacked in showing them. However, his attention briefly focused on the powder gray child as Pincher's vibrant gaze narrowed to slits as he breathed "Cronas, the hell are you doing out here?" He hoped the child had not stumbled upon anything dangerous and it seemed luck was on his side because the child did not appear injured nor disturbed. Allowing his tense figure to slowly loosen his muscles beneath his sleek onyx colored pelt, Pincher's gaze snapped back towards Alpha as he tipped his head towards Cronas as he added "This is Cronas by the way." He wondered how these two oddities would interact.