[ Vasquez's eyes flash in the glowing light of the approaching evening, and he watches, waits as the weapons steadily hit the ground. ]
Don't move.
[ And he walks forward, gathering Faraday's pistols from the dust.
As he's dusting off the weapons, ]
What do you think, perro? Should we let them go?
[ He closes the distance between himself and Faraday, resting one gun in the crook of his elbow to offer him a hand up.
The thing is, he knows that they're dangerously close to a human town. He knows there's always the potential to draw unwanted attention – ripping their throats out or shooting them point blank – and as the sun slowly sets, their time is running shorter.
(Mostly, he should be commended for not instantly separating these men's heads from their bodies, like his first instinct screamed for.) ]
no subject
Don't move.
[ And he walks forward, gathering Faraday's pistols from the dust.
As he's dusting off the weapons, ]
What do you think, perro? Should we let them go?
[ He closes the distance between himself and Faraday, resting one gun in the crook of his elbow to offer him a hand up.
The thing is, he knows that they're dangerously close to a human town. He knows there's always the potential to draw unwanted attention – ripping their throats out or shooting them point blank – and as the sun slowly sets, their time is running shorter.
(Mostly, he should be commended for not instantly separating these men's heads from their bodies, like his first instinct screamed for.) ]