wolf in sheeps clothing \\// joining

[align=center][align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times new roman; color: black;"]Words rang out in his ears. Blood reds focused on a hellhound, the scent barely recognizable through the thick of the blood coating him. He looked at her as she spoke, dragging his talons awkwardly in the sand. This would be a rough environment to attune to, he supposed. "Worry not for my injuries." He spoke, dragging his tongue along his teeth. Cousin? He supposed he wouldn't let it catch him off guard. "I come for shelter." He spoke again. The second one that approached seemed to be fairly mistaken.

Dead? Nay, he was not dead. He wasn't rotting, but his injuries were starting to get infected. He could treat himself, be it needed. It wasn't easy, either. His first impressions of Argus led him to believe, totally, that he was very thick-headed. "I know not what you refer to. I'm not dead." The rise and fall of the beasts chest was enough to convince Primus himself that he wasn't dead. His ears twitched, however. "There is a medic, though?" He seemed almost hopeful, but with the twisted strange grin on his lips it couldn't be hope.

Maybe Primus would eat them. Seems like a good dinner.

"Ah, I forget my manners. Primus, and I'm here to join what you call home." He raised a taloned paw, flicking it towards the place they originated from, whether it be their camp or just a tunnel from there.

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