@gxlaxia
he knew better than to slumber out in the open. how many times had his basking in the sun led to an altercation in one way or another; either startling humans into attacking him, or winding up in another deathclaw pack’s territory.
S2-81 had been careful this time. he’d meticulously sniffed out his surrounds for the lingering scent of deathclaw musk, and in its absence he’d deemed the area safe. having settled in a neat little lump in the undergrowth, he’d slept soundly until the cracking of sticks under foot had snagged his attention. he can smell them from here. human, just one. ten meters and closing. not good.
he’s careful not to make any sudden moves, lest he startle the human into opening fire. a low rumble announces his presence before a croaked, deep voice greets the woman.
“ don’t... shoot... ”
