09-23-2018, 12:05 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; color: black"]Broken bodies, broken bones, the smell of blood in the air curling around him, luring him. His nose lifted up to the sky and he breathed in heavily of the scent, pupils constricting to pin prick points. It was undoubtedly canine in origin and he felt saliva gather at the corners of his muzzle. He hadn't had a good feed in a while and his body ached for it. But he knew better, after all these animals were his 'friends'. He couldn't turn on them and even if he could he wouldn't want to. It wouldn't be beneficial to his survival and he needed to have some in here that he could trust. Even as a slave he had deviated toward certain members like Quill and Melantha. Breathing in harshly the brute would turn his cranium in that direction, gaze shifting as his senses sharpened to figure out what was going on. He could see figures in the distance, though without detail but he knew someone was hurt and someone was bleeding. That was practically all that mattered to him. Licking his muzzle the large creature would move from where he stood, eyes of pink marble focusing on the ground before him. Perhaps he should bring things to fix him up with. Or at least to dull his pain a bit.
So he left his spot and rummaged through his things, gaze pensive as he debated over what to get. He had to take care of himself through the months when he was a slave, beaten and bruised. Skin stripped raw by teeth, claw, and whip. So this was trivial for him as he slipped from his musty room and made his way over to the scene. It seemed Stryker and the others were here and the doberman looked very much worse for wear. The aroma of blood so enticing tried to ensnare him and his throat bobbed in a harsh swallow before he slowly came a bit closer. At his chest hung a small bag and he breathed out harshly before he felt sharpened teeth behind closed lips with his tongue. It was going to be fine. Delving into his bag he would pull out a small container and the contents were smashed raspberry leaves and honey. A soothing and pain killing mixture that he gently attempted to put up to the harmed canine's mouth. "Eat it, we don't want you to be in pain on the way back..."
So he left his spot and rummaged through his things, gaze pensive as he debated over what to get. He had to take care of himself through the months when he was a slave, beaten and bruised. Skin stripped raw by teeth, claw, and whip. So this was trivial for him as he slipped from his musty room and made his way over to the scene. It seemed Stryker and the others were here and the doberman looked very much worse for wear. The aroma of blood so enticing tried to ensnare him and his throat bobbed in a harsh swallow before he slowly came a bit closer. At his chest hung a small bag and he breathed out harshly before he felt sharpened teeth behind closed lips with his tongue. It was going to be fine. Delving into his bag he would pull out a small container and the contents were smashed raspberry leaves and honey. A soothing and pain killing mixture that he gently attempted to put up to the harmed canine's mouth. "Eat it, we don't want you to be in pain on the way back..."