With the situation dealt with, and Amphitrite under the care of Florita, Loic would not hesitate to go to the task, but not before having a final request, before being sent, raising a hand in a halting motion as his eyes trailed to the slumbering moon claimant.

"Do tell how she is once I'm back, eh?", was his only request, before having himself teleported in the middle of Rome, hidden in an alleyway. Fortunately, he had already clothed himself properly, using his trusted combination of a thick fur vest and lightly tattered and weathered pants. Everything else, was, fortunately, hidden within the bag he carried, as he then moved along these Italian streets. Just what did the Ancient of Time leave behind? Alas, constantly wandering Earth's vast wilderness means that more often than not, he found himself out of the loop of just about everything going on in cities like these. It simply was not his domain. He had a particular dislike of how his shoes grated against the concrete that made up the streets. There were too few trees for his liking either. It smelled of choking gas, and was filled with the unnatural noises of these vehicles called "cars". With so much noise and a lot less calm, it made him question why one would wish to live in such a crammed space? Only someone born used to the air being so choked like it is would understand, was his guess. Fortunately, a bit of gasoline wouldn't be the end of him. He'll get his refreshment once finished with the task, and he would begin by tracking whatever 'scents' of other Claimants were about the area. He was especially good at such, almost like a bloodhound. The more of these presences he would feel, the further was the man drawn to meet them. 

Should these individuals also be searching for what was dropped here by Echowix, then surely, he could work with them to that goal, if they were to be cooperative about the matter. He knew well that cities especially were supposed to be neutral. No Claimant worth their salt would dare reveal themselves like that in public, and he especially had his own reasons for avoiding these bustling metropolises. This task will be done, for certain, come hell or high water. He did hope that he'd get to meet Amph after this occasion, at least. After all, they never could have a proper talk, but that was for another time. His eyes readily inspected his environment, while his own body moved about in a confident stride, broad of shoulder and imposingly wild, in spite of his attempt at a human guise.

As Loic's feet grinded against the unnatural concrete of these streets, his right arm would be swinging about wide, as his left would tuck itself within the pockets of his old, weathered pants, humming to himself as his lips narrowed. Not only were the streets in chaos, but he could see other people seemingly running for their lives, their screams and pleas for help ringing in his ears with a wince of sympathy for the humans. They were in the crossfires of what to him, seemed to be a nightmarish scenario. It did not help that his own fearless strut forward stuck out like a sore thumb among this populace. His disguise already barely work to make him stand out any less, but he wasn't going to revoke having these old tattoos on him, nor the body he currently has. Seeing no point in truly hiding, his nose distorted a slight bit more, as he took in scents within the air, and even squatted down to pick up some specks of dirt upon the ground, with a face twisting as if it were that of a canine.

With each inhale, he slowly gained knowledge of his surroundings, as his senses were met with a rather potent volley of ginger, the thickness of it almost making him smirk a tad bit as the scent invoked memories of past clashes with some past earth claimants. Cocky bastards, usually, but always a fun challenge to ease boredom. His sniffing briefly halted as he then noticed some fainter scents as well. Patchouli and cypress, to be exact, which piqued his brow, as this could have either been a group, or at worst, a sign of conflict. His spine only shivered as he upturned his snout into the air while he pulled forth his spear, causing his head to real back and sniff, his mouth widely opening as his system forcefully let the abrasive particles out of his system.

"YYRRAAACHHEW! Oi, this ain't good...", grumbled the hunter as he grasped upon his face, as it shifted back to its normal shape, as this assault upon his senses could now be seen with clarity. The tingling metallic sensation of blood, and the dreadful scent of death. This was no ordinary get-together that was going on. This was no time to dally however, and whether he be met with friend or foe, the scent now led to a clearer path. Without hesitation, he would grind his boots against the asphalt, now pulling forth his bow and arrows as the spear was mounted upon his shoulder by a string, calmly following the scent. It seemed to weave itself through the alleyways, the increasing potency causing the claimant's face to crumple up with disgust. Although his hound-like scent was a blessing at times, it was more often a curse than anything to be this sensitive to smell. Once he stepped out into the streets again, however, his feet jumped back, his eyes absolutely widened.


Multiple mangled corpses were now along the ground, with the ginger scent faintly clinging to him. The other scents, however, seemed to be left in the air, their owners likely far gone. Slowly, he clenched the handle of his bow, as he looked towards them. They all looked like they were mauled and strewn about, as if a fight had just started. Alas, he could not recall any particular memory of what could have caused it, but whatever it was, it was about as vicious as himself, perhaps even more brutal. He carefully weaved his legs around the blood-drenched corpses as he observed for any trails of the matter, while making certain not to step upon any blood, lest their scent of death cling to him as well. The last thing he wished was to be confused for a monstrosity, or even a corpse.

"Th'fock happened'ere? Dunnae like this. Dunnae ken if we got friends, but we got foes, alroight.", mumbled the wanderer, as he would begin to sniff the air once more, with his own eyes changing to those of the pointed ears of a bat, while his tongue licked around his teeth and lips in anticipation. At least, as he warily tracked, he could take this as a sign of imminent danger around him, and whoever else may be with him on this perilous matter. To think his day would go from a relaxing day upon the lands of Scotland, to travelling across Rome in a rush for something while Claimants were seemingly being murdered left and right. Someone's clearly not being so caring about the rules, and perhaps he may soon find the cause of it, if the thing doesn't find him to be suitable prey, that is. With an arrow at the ready, he was prepared, to explore once again, as he skulked the streets.

With the situation dealt with, and Amphitrite under the care of Florita, Loic would not hesitate to go to the task, but not before having a final request, before being sent, raising a hand in a halting motion as his eyes trailed to the slumbering moon claimant.

"Do tell how she is once I'm back, eh?", was his only request, before having himself teleported in the middle of Rome, hidden in an alleyway. Fortunately, he had already clothed himself properly, using his trusted combination of a thick fur vest and lightly tattered and weathered pants. Everything else, was, fortunately, hidden within the bag he carried, as he then moved along these Italian streets. Just what did the Ancient of Time leave behind? Alas, constantly wandering Earth's vast wilderness means that more often than not, he found himself out of the loop of just about everything going on in cities like these. It simply was not his domain. He had a particular dislike of how his shoes grated against the concrete that made up the streets. There were too few trees for his liking either. It smelled of choking gas, and was filled with the unnatural noises of these vehicles called "cars". With so much noise and a lot less calm, it made him question why one would wish to live in such a crammed space? Only someone born used to the air being so choked like it is would understand, was his guess. Fortunately, a bit of gasoline wouldn't be the end of him. He'll get his refreshment once finished with the task, and he would begin by tracking whatever 'scents' of other Claimants were about the area. He was especially good at such, almost like a bloodhound. The more of these presences he would feel, the further was the man drawn to meet them. 

Should these individuals also be searching for what was dropped here by Echowix, then surely, he could work with them to that goal, if they were to be cooperative about the matter. He knew well that cities especially were supposed to be neutral. No Claimant worth their salt would dare reveal themselves like that in public, and he especially had his own reasons for avoiding these bustling metropolises. This task will be done, for certain, come hell or high water. He did hope that he'd get to meet Amph after this occasion, at least. After all, they never could have a proper talk, but that was for another time. His eyes readily inspected his environment, while his own body moved about in a confident stride, broad of shoulder and imposingly wild, in spite of his attempt at a human guise.

As Loic's feet grinded against the unnatural concrete of these streets, his right arm would be swinging about wide, as his left would tuck itself within the pockets of his old, weathered pants, humming to himself as his lips narrowed. Not only were the streets in chaos, but he could see other people seemingly running for their lives, their screams and pleas for help ringing in his ears with a wince of sympathy for the humans. They were in the crossfires of what to him, seemed to be a nightmarish scenario. It did not help that his own fearless strut forward stuck out like a sore thumb among this populace. His disguise already barely work to make him stand out any less, but he wasn't going to revoke having these old tattoos on him, nor the body he currently has. Seeing no point in truly hiding, his nose distorted a slight bit more, as he took in scents within the air, and even squatted down to pick up some specks of dirt upon the ground, with a face twisting as if it were that of a canine.

With each inhale, he slowly gained knowledge of his surroundings, as his senses were met with a rather potent volley of ginger, the thickness of it almost making him smirk a tad bit as the scent invoked memories of past clashes with some past earth claimants. Cocky bastards, usually, but always a fun challenge to ease boredom. His sniffing briefly halted as he then noticed some fainter scents as well. Patchouli and cypress, to be exact, which piqued his brow, as this could have either been a group, or at worst, a sign of conflict. His spine only shivered as he upturned his snout into the air while he pulled forth his spear, causing his head to real back and sniff, his mouth widely opening as his system forcefully let the abrasive particles out of his system.

"YYRRAAACHHEW! Oi, this ain't good...", grumbled the hunter as he grasped upon his face, as it shifted back to its normal shape, as this assault upon his senses could now be seen with clarity. The tingling metallic sensation of blood, and the dreadful scent of death. This was no ordinary get-together that was going on. This was no time to dally however, and whether he be met with friend or foe, the scent now led to a clearer path. Without hesitation, he would grind his boots against the asphalt, now pulling forth his bow and arrows as the spear was mounted upon his shoulder by a string, calmly following the scent. It seemed to weave itself through the alleyways, the increasing potency causing the claimant's face to crumple up with disgust. Although his hound-like scent was a blessing at times, it was more often a curse than anything to be this sensitive to smell. Once he stepped out into the streets again, however, his feet jumped back, his eyes absolutely widened.


Multiple mangled corpses were now along the ground, with the ginger scent faintly clinging to him. The other scents, however, seemed to be left in the air, their owners likely far gone. Slowly, he clenched the handle of his bow, as he looked towards them. They all looked like they were mauled and strewn about, as if a fight had just started. Alas, he could not recall any particular memory of what could have caused it, but whatever it was, it was about as vicious as himself, perhaps even more brutal. He carefully weaved his legs around the blood-drenched corpses as he observed for any trails of the matter, while making certain not to step upon any blood, lest their scent of death cling to him as well. The last thing he wished was to be confused for a monstrosity, or even a corpse.

"Th'fock happened'ere? Dunnae like this. Dunnae ken if we got friends, but we got foes, alroight.", mumbled the wanderer, as he would begin to sniff the air once more, with his own eyes changing to those of the pointed ears of a bat, while his tongue licked around his teeth and lips in anticipation. At least, as he warily tracked, he could take this as a sign of imminent danger around him, and whoever else may be with him on this perilous matter. To think his day would go from a relaxing day upon the lands of Scotland, to travelling across Rome in a rush for something while Claimants were seemingly being murdered left and right. Someone's clearly not being so caring about the rules, and perhaps he may soon find the cause of it, if the thing doesn't find him to be suitable prey, that is. With an arrow at the ready, he was prepared, to explore once again, as he skulked the streets.

With the situation dealt with, and Amphitrite under the care of Florita, Loic would not hesitate to go to the task, but not before having a final request, before being sent, raising a hand in a halting motion as his eyes trailed to the slumbering moon claimant.

"Do tell how she is once I'm back, eh?", was his only request, before having himself teleported in the middle of Rome, hidden in an alleyway. Fortunately, he had already clothed himself properly, using his trusted combination of a thick fur vest and lightly tattered and weathered pants. Everything else, was, fortunately, hidden within the bag he carried, as he then moved along these Italian streets. Just what did the Ancient of Time leave behind? Alas, constantly wandering Earth's vast wilderness means that more often than not, he found himself out of the loop of just about everything going on in cities like these. It simply was not his domain. He had a particular dislike of how his shoes grated against the concrete that made up the streets. There were too few trees for his liking either. It smelled of choking gas, and was filled with the unnatural noises of these vehicles called "cars". With so much noise and a lot less calm, it made him question why one would wish to live in such a crammed space? Only someone born used to the air being so choked like it is would understand, was his guess. Fortunately, a bit of gasoline wouldn't be the end of him. He'll get his refreshment once finished with the task, and he would begin by tracking whatever 'scents' of other Claimants were about the area. He was especially good at such, almost like a bloodhound. The more of these presences he would feel, the further was the man drawn to meet them. 

Should these individuals also be searching for what was dropped here by Echowix, then surely, he could work with them to that goal, if they were to be cooperative about the matter. He knew well that cities especially were supposed to be neutral. No Claimant worth their salt would dare reveal themselves like that in public, and he especially had his own reasons for avoiding these bustling metropolises. This task will be done, for certain, come hell or high water. He did hope that he'd get to meet Amph after this occasion, at least. After all, they never could have a proper talk, but that was for another time. His eyes readily inspected his environment, while his own body moved about in a confident stride, broad of shoulder and imposingly wild, in spite of his attempt at a human guise.

As Loic's feet grinded against the unnatural concrete of these streets, his right arm would be swinging about wide, as his left would tuck itself within the pockets of his old, weathered pants, humming to himself as his lips narrowed. Not only were the streets in chaos, but he could see other people seemingly running for their lives, their screams and pleas for help ringing in his ears with a wince of sympathy for the humans. They were in the crossfires of what to him, seemed to be a nightmarish scenario. It did not help that his own fearless strut forward stuck out like a sore thumb among this populace. His disguise already barely work to make him stand out any less, but he wasn't going to revoke having these old tattoos on him, nor the body he currently has. Seeing no point in truly hiding, his nose distorted a slight bit more, as he took in scents within the air, and even squatted down to pick up some specks of dirt upon the ground, with a face twisting as if it were that of a canine.

With each inhale, he slowly gained knowledge of his surroundings, as his senses were met with a rather potent volley of ginger, the thickness of it almost making him smirk a tad bit as the scent invoked memories of past clashes with some past earth claimants. Cocky bastards, usually, but always a fun challenge to ease boredom. His sniffing briefly halted as he then noticed some fainter scents as well. Patchouli and cypress, to be exact, which piqued his brow, as this could have either been a group, or at worst, a sign of conflict. His spine only shivered as he upturned his snout into the air while he pulled forth his spear, causing his head to real back and sniff, his mouth widely opening as his system forcefully let the abrasive particles out of his system.

"YYRRAAACHHEW! Oi, this ain't good...", grumbled the hunter as he grasped upon his face, as it shifted back to its normal shape, as this assault upon his senses could now be seen with clarity. The tingling metallic sensation of blood, and the dreadful scent of death. This was no ordinary get-together that was going on. This was no time to dally however, and whether he be met with friend or foe, the scent now led to a clearer path. Without hesitation, he would grind his boots against the asphalt, now pulling forth his bow and arrows as the spear was mounted upon his shoulder by a string, calmly following the scent. It seemed to weave itself through the alleyways, the increasing potency causing the claimant's face to crumple up with disgust. Although his hound-like scent was a blessing at times, it was more often a curse than anything to be this sensitive to smell. Once he stepped out into the streets again, however, his feet jumped back, his eyes absolutely widened.


Multiple mangled corpses were now along the ground, with the ginger scent faintly clinging to him. The other scents, however, seemed to be left in the air, their owners likely far gone. Slowly, he clenched the handle of his bow, as he looked towards them. They all looked like they were mauled and strewn about, as if a fight had just started. Alas, he could not recall any particular memory of what could have caused it, but whatever it was, it was about as vicious as himself, perhaps even more brutal. He carefully weaved his legs around the blood-drenched corpses as he observed for any trails of the matter, while making certain not to step upon any blood, lest their scent of death cling to him as well. The last thing he wished was to be confused for a monstrosity, or even a corpse.

"Th'fock happened'ere? Dunnae like this. Dunnae ken if we got friends, but we got foes, alroight.", mumbled the wanderer, as he would begin to sniff the air once more, with his own eyes changing to those of the pointed ears of a bat, while his tongue licked around his teeth and lips in anticipation. At least, as he warily tracked, he could take this as a sign of imminent danger around him, and whoever else may be with him on this perilous matter. To think his day would go from a relaxing day upon the lands of Scotland, to travelling across Rome in a rush for something while Claimants were seemingly being murdered left and right. Someone's clearly not being so caring about the rules, and perhaps he may soon find the cause of it, if the thing doesn't find him to be suitable prey, that is. With an arrow at the ready, he was prepared, to explore once again, as he skulked the streets.

With the situation dealt with, and Amphitrite under the care of Florita, Loic would not hesitate to go to the task, but not before having a final request, before being sent, raising a hand in a halting motion as his eyes trailed to the slumbering moon claimant.

"Do tell how she is once I'm back, eh?", was his only request, before having himself teleported in the middle of Rome, hidden in an alleyway. Fortunately, he had already clothed himself properly, using his trusted combination of a thick fur vest and lightly tattered and weathered pants. Everything else, was, fortunately, hidden within the bag he carried, as he then moved along these Italian streets. Just what did the Ancient of Time leave behind? Alas, constantly wandering Earth's vast wilderness means that more often than not, he found himself out of the loop of just about everything going on in cities like these. It simply was not his domain. He had a particular dislike of how his shoes grated against the concrete that made up the streets. There were too few trees for his liking either. It smelled of choking gas, and was filled with the unnatural noises of these vehicles called "cars". With so much noise and a lot less calm, it made him question why one would wish to live in such a crammed space? Only someone born used to the air being so choked like it is would understand, was his guess. Fortunately, a bit of gasoline wouldn't be the end of him. He'll get his refreshment once finished with the task, and he would begin by tracking whatever 'scents' of other Claimants were about the area. He was especially good at such, almost like a bloodhound. The more of these presences he would feel, the further was the man drawn to meet them. 

Should these individuals also be searching for what was dropped here by Echowix, then surely, he could work with them to that goal, if they were to be cooperative about the matter. He knew well that cities especially were supposed to be neutral. No Claimant worth their salt would dare reveal themselves like that in public, and he especially had his own reasons for avoiding these bustling metropolises. This task will be done, for certain, come hell or high water. He did hope that he'd get to meet Amph after this occasion, at least. After all, they never could have a proper talk, but that was for another time. His eyes readily inspected his environment, while his own body moved about in a confident stride, broad of shoulder and imposingly wild, in spite of his attempt at a human guise.

As Loic's feet grinded against the unnatural concrete of these streets, his right arm would be swinging about wide, as his left would tuck itself within the pockets of his old, weathered pants, humming to himself as his lips narrowed. Not only were the streets in chaos, but he could see other people seemingly running for their lives, their screams and pleas for help ringing in his ears with a wince of sympathy for the humans. They were in the crossfires of what to him, seemed to be a nightmarish scenario. It did not help that his own fearless strut forward stuck out like a sore thumb among this populace. His disguise already barely work to make him stand out any less, but he wasn't going to revoke having these old tattoos on him, nor the body he currently has. Seeing no point in truly hiding, his nose distorted a slight bit more, as he took in scents within the air, and even squatted down to pick up some specks of dirt upon the ground, with a face twisting as if it were that of a canine.

With each inhale, he slowly gained knowledge of his surroundings, as his senses were met with a rather potent volley of ginger, the thickness of it almost making him smirk a tad bit as the scent invoked memories of past clashes with some past earth claimants. Cocky bastards, usually, but always a fun challenge to ease boredom. His sniffing briefly halted as he then noticed some fainter scents as well. Patchouli and cypress, to be exact, which piqued his brow, as this could have either been a group, or at worst, a sign of conflict. His spine only shivered as he upturned his snout into the air while he pulled forth his spear, causing his head to real back and sniff, his mouth widely opening as his system forcefully let the abrasive particles out of his system.

"YYRRAAACHHEW! Oi, this ain't good...", grumbled the hunter as he grasped upon his face, as it shifted back to its normal shape, as this assault upon his senses could now be seen with clarity. The tingling metallic sensation of blood, and the dreadful scent of death. This was no ordinary get-together that was going on. This was no time to dally however, and whether he be met with friend or foe, the scent now led to a clearer path. Without hesitation, he would grind his boots against the asphalt, now pulling forth his bow and arrows as the spear was mounted upon his shoulder by a string, calmly following the scent. It seemed to weave itself through the alleyways, the increasing potency causing the claimant's face to crumple up with disgust. Although his hound-like scent was a blessing at times, it was more often a curse than anything to be this sensitive to smell. Once he stepped out into the streets again, however, his feet jumped back, his eyes absolutely widened.


Multiple mangled corpses were now along the ground, with the ginger scent faintly clinging to him. The other scents, however, seemed to be left in the air, their owners likely far gone. Slowly, he clenched the handle of his bow, as he looked towards them. They all looked like they were mauled and strewn about, as if a fight had just started. Alas, he could not recall any particular memory of what could have caused it, but whatever it was, it was about as vicious as himself, perhaps even more brutal. He carefully weaved his legs around the blood-drenched corpses as he observed for any trails of the matter, while making certain not to step upon any blood, lest their scent of death cling to him as well. The last thing he wished was to be confused for a monstrosity, or even a corpse.

"Th'fock happened'ere? Dunnae like this. Dunnae ken if we got friends, but we got foes, alroight.", mumbled the wanderer, as he would begin to sniff the air once more, with his own eyes changing to those of the pointed ears of a bat, while his tongue licked around his teeth and lips in anticipation. At least, as he warily tracked, he could take this as a sign of imminent danger around him, and whoever else may be with him on this perilous matter. To think his day would go from a relaxing day upon the lands of Scotland, to travelling across Rome in a rush for something while Claimants were seemingly being murdered left and right. Someone's clearly not being so caring about the rules, and perhaps he may soon find the cause of it, if the thing doesn't find him to be suitable prey, that is. With an arrow at the ready, he was prepared, to explore once again, as he skulked the streets.

With the situation dealt with, and Amphitrite under the care of Florita, Loic would not hesitate to go to the task, but not before having a final request, before being sent, raising a hand in a halting motion as his eyes trailed to the slumbering moon claimant.

"Do tell how she is once I'm back, eh?", was his only request, before having himself teleported in the middle of Rome, hidden in an alleyway. Fortunately, he had already clothed himself properly, using his trusted combination of a thick fur vest and lightly tattered and weathered pants. Everything else, was, fortunately, hidden within the bag he carried, as he then moved along these Italian streets. Just what did the Ancient of Time leave behind? Alas, constantly wandering Earth's vast wilderness means that more often than not, he found himself out of the loop of just about everything going on in cities like these. It simply was not his domain. He had a particular dislike of how his shoes grated against the concrete that made up the streets. There were too few trees for his liking either. It smelled of choking gas, and was filled with the unnatural noises of these vehicles called "cars". With so much noise and a lot less calm, it made him question why one would wish to live in such a crammed space? Only someone born used to the air being so choked like it is would understand, was his guess. Fortunately, a bit of gasoline wouldn't be the end of him. He'll get his refreshment once finished with the task, and he would begin by tracking whatever 'scents' of other Claimants were about the area. He was especially good at such, almost like a bloodhound. The more of these presences he would feel, the further was the man drawn to meet them. 

Should these individuals also be searching for what was dropped here by Echowix, then surely, he could work with them to that goal, if they were to be cooperative about the matter. He knew well that cities especially were supposed to be neutral. No Claimant worth their salt would dare reveal themselves like that in public, and he especially had his own reasons for avoiding these bustling metropolises. This task will be done, for certain, come hell or high water. He did hope that he'd get to meet Amph after this occasion, at least. After all, they never could have a proper talk, but that was for another time. His eyes readily inspected his environment, while his own body moved about in a confident stride, broad of shoulder and imposingly wild, in spite of his attempt at a human guise.

As Loic's feet grinded against the unnatural concrete of these streets, his right arm would be swinging about wide, as his left would tuck itself within the pockets of his old, weathered pants, humming to himself as his lips narrowed. Not only were the streets in chaos, but he could see other people seemingly running for their lives, their screams and pleas for help ringing in his ears with a wince of sympathy for the humans. They were in the crossfires of what to him, seemed to be a nightmarish scenario. It did not help that his own fearless strut forward stuck out like a sore thumb among this populace. His disguise already barely work to make him stand out any less, but he wasn't going to revoke having these old tattoos on him, nor the body he currently has. Seeing no point in truly hiding, his nose distorted a slight bit more, as he took in scents within the air, and even squatted down to pick up some specks of dirt upon the ground, with a face twisting as if it were that of a canine.

With each inhale, he slowly gained knowledge of his surroundings, as his senses were met with a rather potent volley of ginger, the thickness of it almost making him smirk a tad bit as the scent invoked memories of past clashes with some past earth claimants. Cocky bastards, usually, but always a fun challenge to ease boredom. His sniffing briefly halted as he then noticed some fainter scents as well. Patchouli and cypress, to be exact, which piqued his brow, as this could have either been a group, or at worst, a sign of conflict. His spine only shivered as he upturned his snout into the air while he pulled forth his spear, causing his head to real back and sniff, his mouth widely opening as his system forcefully let the abrasive particles out of his system.

"YYRRAAACHHEW! Oi, this ain't good...", grumbled the hunter as he grasped upon his face, as it shifted back to its normal shape, as this assault upon his senses could now be seen with clarity. The tingling metallic sensation of blood, and the dreadful scent of death. This was no ordinary get-together that was going on. This was no time to dally however, and whether he be met with friend or foe, the scent now led to a clearer path. Without hesitation, he would grind his boots against the asphalt, now pulling forth his bow and arrows as the spear was mounted upon his shoulder by a string, calmly following the scent. It seemed to weave itself through the alleyways, the increasing potency causing the claimant's face to crumple up with disgust. Although his hound-like scent was a blessing at times, it was more often a curse than anything to be this sensitive to smell. Once he stepped out into the streets again, however, his feet jumped back, his eyes absolutely widened.


Multiple mangled corpses were now along the ground, with the ginger scent faintly clinging to him. The other scents, however, seemed to be left in the air, their owners likely far gone. Slowly, he clenched the handle of his bow, as he looked towards them. They all looked like they were mauled and strewn about, as if a fight had just started. Alas, he could not recall any particular memory of what could have caused it, but whatever it was, it was about as vicious as himself, perhaps even more brutal. He carefully weaved his legs around the blood-drenched corpses as he observed for any trails of the matter, while making certain not to step upon any blood, lest their scent of death cling to him as well. The last thing he wished was to be confused for a monstrosity, or even a corpse.

"Th'fock happened'ere? Dunnae like this. Dunnae ken if we got friends, but we got foes, alroight.", mumbled the wanderer, as he would begin to sniff the air once more, with his own eyes changing to those of the pointed ears of a bat, while his tongue licked around his teeth and lips in anticipation. At least, as he warily tracked, he could take this as a sign of imminent danger around him, and whoever else may be with him on this perilous matter. To think his day would go from a relaxing day upon the lands of Scotland, to travelling across Rome in a rush for something while Claimants were seemingly being murdered left and right. Someone's clearly not being so caring about the rules, and perhaps he may soon find the cause of it, if the thing doesn't find him to be suitable prey, that is. With an arrow at the ready, he was prepared, to explore once again, as he skulked the streets.