03-10-2020, 04:25 PM
Caustic was rarely seen outside the camp, or his own home, for that matter. His work was far more important than anything Tanglewood had to offer him... but a house and actual bed was a lovely bonus. He complied to Tanglewood's rules because he was obligated to.
He had never done surgery before. It wasn't his field, and while Caustic was sure his parents would have been overjoyed at their son being a rich doctor, chemistry was far more inciting in every way. Compounds delicately stitched together led to the most beautiful of demises, bodies falling one by one as gas filled their lungs and corroded their insides. Magnificent, truly.
They always seemed to be in groups by the time Caustic stumbled upon anyone, and it was rather annoying. It was evidence he was already slowing down. Listening and spacial awareness was critical to survive in the Games, and the wolf's hearing should be better than his own. He was just making mistakes and now he may have to conduct in social interaction.
Tedious.
A mutated rabbit, occasionally twitching and still breathing, hung loosely from his teeth. The wolf's thoughts in the back of his mind dared him to clamp down, let the blood fill his mouth and break its fragile bones- he took in a breath, a puff of gas exhausting from him. A regain of control.
His eyes scanned over the group, recognizing Aurum, the lion from the border. but not the others. Caustic's gaze goes to the owl first, then to the clothing set aside and the blood washing away into the river. The wolf's tail wagged for a mere moment.
He listened into their conversation, ears perking forward at the discussion of medical practices and tail resuming its wag. How did the owl perform such an act? What tools did he have? It couldn't be any sort of advanced but at least it was interesting. Caustic revealed himself from the shrubbery, stepping into the open with heavy paws, rabbit loose and gas wafting into the air. The wolf set his future test subject between his paws, attempting to formulate a greeting. Caustic had his own Ph.D, a hill he preferred to die on. While the creatures here could never reach a technological understanding of his own, or reach the plateau Caustic observed the world from, perhaps he could entertain a few moments with other individuals of merit.
"If I may interrupt, you said you performed a leg reattachment? What did you use?"
He had never done surgery before. It wasn't his field, and while Caustic was sure his parents would have been overjoyed at their son being a rich doctor, chemistry was far more inciting in every way. Compounds delicately stitched together led to the most beautiful of demises, bodies falling one by one as gas filled their lungs and corroded their insides. Magnificent, truly.
They always seemed to be in groups by the time Caustic stumbled upon anyone, and it was rather annoying. It was evidence he was already slowing down. Listening and spacial awareness was critical to survive in the Games, and the wolf's hearing should be better than his own. He was just making mistakes and now he may have to conduct in social interaction.
Tedious.
A mutated rabbit, occasionally twitching and still breathing, hung loosely from his teeth. The wolf's thoughts in the back of his mind dared him to clamp down, let the blood fill his mouth and break its fragile bones- he took in a breath, a puff of gas exhausting from him. A regain of control.
His eyes scanned over the group, recognizing Aurum, the lion from the border. but not the others. Caustic's gaze goes to the owl first, then to the clothing set aside and the blood washing away into the river. The wolf's tail wagged for a mere moment.
He listened into their conversation, ears perking forward at the discussion of medical practices and tail resuming its wag. How did the owl perform such an act? What tools did he have? It couldn't be any sort of advanced but at least it was interesting. Caustic revealed himself from the shrubbery, stepping into the open with heavy paws, rabbit loose and gas wafting into the air. The wolf set his future test subject between his paws, attempting to formulate a greeting. Caustic had his own Ph.D, a hill he preferred to die on. While the creatures here could never reach a technological understanding of his own, or reach the plateau Caustic observed the world from, perhaps he could entertain a few moments with other individuals of merit.
"If I may interrupt, you said you performed a leg reattachment? What did you use?"
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