WE DON'T NEED ANOTHER HERO | open

[HAMMOND]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Canine instincts should've defined the male. Aggression towards strangers, an extreme possession over food and a unwavering loyalty to those whom fell under his limited care. Yet, there was still one thing that brought him away from such a stereotypical role and that was his lack of interest in 'packs', the preference to be a lone wolf overwhelming any other behavioral patterns. Seeing one of his own kind approach him caused his legs to tense, ears pointed directly upwards attentively as Zimavich chose to approach him. No words came from the other's underused vocals, a dark cloud casting over his gaze and breathing smothered in a hoarse undertone as he resisted the urge to growl back. Nothing would've stopped him from telling the other to 'back off' in normal circumstances, pride and caution were things that needed to be swallowed in desperate times however. Grunting in reply to the other canine, Axle was too used to solitude to bother coming up with an excuse for his shortcomings. These were creatures that weren't too be trusted with simple words, oh how they'd twist them and use them to their own advantage.

Tail about as tall as his ears, the appearance of a second caused his laser-like stare to flicker, the Heeler giving a harsh look towards Beck. He wanted him to do what? With a blade? An exasperated look was offered to the leader, something that just screamed 'are you kidding me?'. Twisting his neck around to give a look behind him, realising that he'd be outrun in the current circumstances, Axle lay himself down, this time growling rather loudly between gritted teeth. Don't try anything stupid. A simple request, with unsheathable claws digging into the sloppy earth, the former pet flinched in preparation. A knife pinching his neck, teeth ripping into his spotted fur, he swore that was what he expected, but there was nothing of the sort. As his chin grazed against the mud, the male's entire body was frozen in place as the feline got to work. Honey coloured eyes locked onto the smaller being, as soon as he heard something snap the Heeler pushed himself upwards, spinning about like a bucking bronco. Raising an ashy paw up to his cheek, Axle put enough pressure on the muzzle to push it off of him, whirling his neck around to unravel the chain he'd been burdened with. Clunk. The contraptions fell onto the ground in a petty heap.

For a while he just seemed to move his jaws up and down, extremely happy to be able to move cranky muscles again, but as soon as a third individual arrived he was brought back into the grim reality of the situation. What did they want in return for helping a stranger? Remnants of a grin fading back into his signature scowl, the Heeler would let out a sudden snarl, taking a few defensive steps back as he eyed the three up warily. It was times like this where words spoke louder than actions, and gratitude should've been shared, but the idea of making a deal with some sort of devil rang about in his mind. Should he have bowed so easily? "What do you want?" he asked, words sounding drunken and slurred from being silent for months. No one helped another for free, and the sooner he figured out what he owed the better.