[ Waver knows this scent. It pulls at him, sparking recognition and the sudden need to claim. To make sure. His.
He stalks along the rooftops, dark, leathery wings assisting his jumps and making sure he lands more softly, though they're too small and not strong enough for actual flight. He doesn't need it.
He leaps from one of the smaller buildings, some sort of shop or restaurant, down right onto--
wildcard no one can stop me
He stalks along the rooftops, dark, leathery wings assisting his jumps and making sure he lands more softly, though they're too small and not strong enough for actual flight. He doesn't need it.
He leaps from one of the smaller buildings, some sort of shop or restaurant, down right onto--
Berserker!
Surprise! ]