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CAUSTIC
Creatures of all strange manner appeared here, and Caustic almost found comfort in the normal ones. The Outlands had been home to their own variety of strange creatures, but he had yet to see anything rivaling the massive power of a Leviathan or the screeching of a flyer.
Scratch that, the strange cicada-dragon screeched just the same.
Caustic was too familiar with administering death. He could never offer love, but he could offer fulfilled promises of demise at the power of his work, whether in the scientific sense or the brutal sense. He was familiar to death, as the times his squad mates let him down and allowed other teams to overpower him. Caustic took in a large inhale at the scattered memories of bullets filling his body, sending him to his knees, filling his brain, choking on his own blood.
Exhale. Green clouds left his mouth. Cough. Caustic found the stranger's scent in his nose, and rolled his eyes on reflex. There was a fellow member's scent too, and knew that he would have to approach now. There was a 50/50 chance there was a tough-acting child trying to greet a stranger.
Caustic trudged out of the trees, approaching from behind the child as the gas leaked from his mouth in a steady stream of smoke. The large, dark, Northwestern wolf towered over the fox, and Caustic moved to place Mercedes under him, between his forelegs. His face twisted into a hard, angry stare with a trapper's gaze focused on the lion.
Something.... primal wanted him to snarl and bark, and Caustic held this reflex with clenched teeth. He squared his shoulders, ears perked forward and tail raised to level. Caustic's gaze was picking apart the lion's anatomy, theorizing the bone structure and organs with each noted mutation.
"Kydobi is the Ardent. He may be along shortly. Take a seat for now."
Scratch that, the strange cicada-dragon screeched just the same.
Caustic was too familiar with administering death. He could never offer love, but he could offer fulfilled promises of demise at the power of his work, whether in the scientific sense or the brutal sense. He was familiar to death, as the times his squad mates let him down and allowed other teams to overpower him. Caustic took in a large inhale at the scattered memories of bullets filling his body, sending him to his knees, filling his brain, choking on his own blood.
Exhale. Green clouds left his mouth. Cough. Caustic found the stranger's scent in his nose, and rolled his eyes on reflex. There was a fellow member's scent too, and knew that he would have to approach now. There was a 50/50 chance there was a tough-acting child trying to greet a stranger.
Caustic trudged out of the trees, approaching from behind the child as the gas leaked from his mouth in a steady stream of smoke. The large, dark, Northwestern wolf towered over the fox, and Caustic moved to place Mercedes under him, between his forelegs. His face twisted into a hard, angry stare with a trapper's gaze focused on the lion.
Something.... primal wanted him to snarl and bark, and Caustic held this reflex with clenched teeth. He squared his shoulders, ears perked forward and tail raised to level. Caustic's gaze was picking apart the lion's anatomy, theorizing the bone structure and organs with each noted mutation.
"Kydobi is the Ardent. He may be along shortly. Take a seat for now."
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