THAT ONE IN A MILLION ☆ kainan

[ARVID R.]

The Typhoon, and The Palm Glades. Those were the two primary targets of the Coalition, at least as of late. Arvid didn't have a huge issue with that, but he did find it a little limiting. After all, if he went and sought out patients for poison testing, eventually someone would catch on – particularly if he only targeted those two groups. So instead, he chose to focus on the groups that were off limits. The Pitt, and Tanglewood. No mention of any other groups, which told him that anything else he stumbled across was just fine for testing. That was what had led the dire wolf away from the Coalition's territory, his pelt scrubbed of any and all group scent as he scoured the neutral lands, looking for smaller groups. Eventually, he caught onto rumors of a rather small and new group that had only just now begun to be noticed by others – The Tribe of the Molten Spirits. It was quite an impressive title, and one that actually only drew Arvid in more. A tribe? Perhaps that would mean they used different herbal medicines and methods from the other groups... would their bodies react differently to his poisons? That was only one of the questions lingering on his mind as he moved off in the direction of the group's border.

The towering hills that surrounded the territory were a bit intimidating, but it didn't take long before the canine was able to make his way through. His plan was simple. It wasn't as if he was just going to walk up to someone and force poison in their mouth, like he had with the mice. No, he had to be a little more subtle than that. What better way to have a bit of subtlety than with a disguise? So, Arvid was dressed up in a rather plain blue cloak, a basket full of baked goods dangling from his jaws. Of course, the baked goods held within them varying different kinds of poisons, all at different levels of potency, and lethality. Despite his intimidating figure, he actually made a rather perfect little stand-in for a wandering merchant, looking to sell their goods in exchange for small trinkets, and bobbles. Once the scent of the tribe grew rather overbearing, Arvid sat down near the border, placing the his basket on the ground and howling up into the air, hoping to catch the attention of any passersby.

As the flying figure of a hybrid landed and grew near, Arvid simply offered a friendly smile, his tail wagging behind him. His words were kind as he spoke, thoughtful humming leaving him, "Hello there! Who are you?" It was a simple question, stated in a cheerful tone to make him look as carefree and innocent as possible.

i wanna be the sand inside that hourglass