born of a bloodhound. | open

[BLOODHOUND.]

Bloodhound themself, had been raised by a group of pagans, that lived on the outskirts of what remained of their home planet, Talos. Their family and creed had rejected all technology, claiming it was a symbol of greed and corruption. They were a group of warriors, that battled and hunted in Odin's name, their Allfather. They had learned everything through tales that had been passed down through generations, through song and dance and speech and the wisdom of their elders. Everything they knew, about hunting, tracking, trapping, it had all been exemplified, now that they were a wolf. Their senses heightened, their body and instincts developed for the kill.

They were pleased to hear that his paw had healed.

"That is good to hear." They admit, they had been concerned the sparring could have damaged it further. "I am glad, that you had help. There are a lot of kind people, here."

They stare out over the horizon, as they mull over how to respond to Vigenere's question. Caustic was no longer here to threaten them. And what did it matter, if they were not believed? This information they held, of their past occupation, the Games that they had fought in, did it really matter who knew?

They were as alone now, as they were as a human. Crows could only provide so much, by way of companionship. They deigned to tell Vigenere as much as the people in their dimension knew of them. If anything, it served to help Vigenere understand exactly what level Bloodhound operated on.

"Yes, we knew one another. He would not like me to tell you this, but he is not here, to force the words back with his teeth." They doubt he would have been able to follow through with the threat anyways.
But the venom in his jaws... Perhaps so. They pause, gathering their words. "We... were not from here. The three of us. We belonged to a different world, far in the future. Not as animals, but as humans."

They turn their head to look at Vigenere, judging his reaction so far, before continuing.

"Doctor Caustic and I met in the field of battle. He was exceptionally dangerous as a man. Not so much, here, as a wolf." He was clumsy, asphyxiating his prey instead of taking tooth and claw to it. They had long wished to teach the scientist how to kill his prey in this form. "We have killed one another many times over. It was bloodsport. His blood, his life, for my Gods. My blood, my life, for his experiments. We were not close, even here. But when together, we were fèlagi."

The two of them alone could see through the gas. Bloodhound was extraordinarily deadly, even within the toxic, corrosive fumes.

"Octane is the same. We were all combatants in this bloodsport."

THE TRUE TEST IS BEFORE THE ALLFATHER.