Oh, fuck that. After they just went through all this bullshit to fetch him, Riccin's not about to let Pheres take off with some kid with a drone phobia.
They stalk forward until they're close enough to grab him, and then they do, one hand wrapping around the top of a horn. thank fuck for gloves, because they can feel the heat of the cuff even through the leather.
"Stop being such a chicken shit," they order. "The fuck you think they're going to do, they see your candy-ass trying to hide out a sweep?"
He's not a blood mutant: his cheeks are ruddy enough, it's clear he's maroon. And his clothes under the sun cloak aren't hiding anything, so there's nothing for him to worry about.
The yellowblood is another story, but Riccin doesn't care about the pipsqueak. They can be Marduk's problem.
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They stalk forward until they're close enough to grab him, and then they do, one hand wrapping around the top of a horn. thank fuck for gloves, because they can feel the heat of the cuff even through the leather.
"Stop being such a chicken shit," they order. "The fuck you think they're going to do, they see your candy-ass trying to hide out a sweep?"
He's not a blood mutant: his cheeks are ruddy enough, it's clear he's maroon. And his clothes under the sun cloak aren't hiding anything, so there's nothing for him to worry about.
The yellowblood is another story, but Riccin doesn't care about the pipsqueak. They can be Marduk's problem.