Vasquez looks out across the desert, his eyes narrowing in the dark, and he finally hones in on the small, fluffy blot moving across the sand. On all fours, it lopes like Faraday, pressed low to the ground, heading in their direction. It isn't moving quickly, and while it strides with purpose, there's no underlying intention of hunting – probably because there's no way it would slip Faraday and Vasquez's notice long enough to get so close.
Vasquez rests a hand on his belt – where the silver chain lies, waiting. He's armed with silver bullets, but he rarely keeps them loaded in his revolver, for the pure sake of refusing to waste them. ]
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Vasquez looks out across the desert, his eyes narrowing in the dark, and he finally hones in on the small, fluffy blot moving across the sand. On all fours, it lopes like Faraday, pressed low to the ground, heading in their direction. It isn't moving quickly, and while it strides with purpose, there's no underlying intention of hunting – probably because there's no way it would slip Faraday and Vasquez's notice long enough to get so close.
Vasquez rests a hand on his belt – where the silver chain lies, waiting. He's armed with silver bullets, but he rarely keeps them loaded in his revolver, for the pure sake of refusing to waste them. ]
You want to wait for it?