(Untitled)

[screeee]

who ; Kato and Red
what ; Hunting, blowing off steam, distracting the pissed off raptor
where ; Garden zone 3
when ; Right after Zaeed blew Grid's brains out

Comments

[purelydriven]

He didn't want her to die.

Did his reasons have to be any more complex? Kato liked the self-gravitas that Red possessed, and he was a pack animal at heart, so it was no wonder that they ended up hunting together.

"Red!" he said as he trotted up. Kato had dressed for evening adventures in the forest with a black long-sleeved, ribbed shirt, blue jeans and a pair of boots. He'd stolen everything, and his conscience didn't hurt him a bit. He needed the clothes, they obviously didn't, so he took them. A steak knife from a restaurant completed his ensemble.

Kato flashed her a smile as he approached.

[screeee]

Red waved at him in greeting and closed the short gap between them. She scented the air subtly, pulling his smell in to familiarize herself with it. He didn't smell like gunpowder, which, while comforting, made her wonder just how he was expecting to hunt. Humans had no claws and their teeth were small and blunt. She had been told that they needed guns to hunt.

"Are ready, yes?" she smiled, voice low.

[purelydriven]

"Yes," he said, dropping his voice in return. He pulled out the knife, and Kato had sharpened the stainless steel to a razor point. It was soft metal and would dull quickly, but if he was going to kill anything, Kato wouldn't want to hack and slash in any case. "I bring a knife. Do you have one?"

She moved like a predator, not holding still, and he echoed her impatience. She was definitely feral, but the song of violence is common to all species, and so he understood.

"I used to hunt with Blitt," he said suddenly, thinking of how they would drive to methlabs, kill everyone inside as a message to whoever they were trying to piss off, and run. "Do not worly, I do not mind blood."

[screeee]

"Have weapons," she nodded, taking her first steps off of the beaten path and into the dense underbrush. There was only the faintest whisper of branches brushing against her smooth scales.

"Experience is good," she murmured as she navigated toward their prey. They were still a ways off, but the wind was in their favor. It would carry their scents and, to a lesser degree, their sounds, away from the twitchy herbivores. "Hunted deer? Fast. Fat. Jumpy."