#anubis4

@exoamalgam 

     Pawed boots crunch fresh snow beneath them as they carry the Voidwalker through a maze of rusting metal and rotting wood. Eliksni symbols still clung to the walls, fading away with time and neglect. The scavengers haven’t populated the area in quite a while it seems contrary to the intel he had been given. Whatever Guardian was working with them must have left with his so called adopted House.

     Huffing quietly, Anubis-4 pressed on and ducked beneath a low hanging garage door. Sensitive antennae picked up the sound of someone, or something, in distress and he tilted his head towards where he believed it was coming from. He did not doubt the Eliksni had left behind traps and, sure enough, he came upon a rather amusing sight.

     Lowering his twin Khopesh blades, the exo couldn’t help but stare for a moment as the faintest tug curled the corner of his lips. He knew that frame, recognized it from an ill encounter what felt like many months ago. What was their name again? Hmm, guess it didn’t really matter. He would let them squirm a bit more before offering to help if they could not free themselves.

Touch prompt - Accepting

     The soft glow of lavender signified air being drawn in, cycled, and expelled with a cool hiss through his elongated snout. Optics remained shut when Mor entered his quarters, the shadows of fallen Guardian helmets flickering with each breath. The jackal’s room was simple, aside from the trophies and a shrine that sat tucked away in a small nook. There was nay a single thing that might trip the cat up as he crawled upon the larger Exo’s bed.

    An ear twitch, the soft antenna shifting slightly as if the pitter-patter of paws had attracted it. His rest was deep and much needed after the last execution had taken place. Blood still clung to his smooth hide and smeared on the intruders legs as he advanced over the monolith of a man beneath him. The touch caused a shudder to roll down Anubis’s spine, though he did not stir until Mor’s grip increased.

    Optics snapped open and flashed online as his respiratory system became starved and he felt pain pierce through thick flesh. Slow to respond, the Exo’s ancient frame was struggling to process what, exactly, was happening and why. It took a moment for his movements to still and his maw to curl with sharp canine-like teeth as attempting to produce a snarl that held no sound to it.

    Several vents lined along his sides cracked open and released the stale air trapped within his mesh lungs. It was ice cold and laced with a toxic byproduct crated by the interruption of the recycling process within his Void core. It had no smell, nor a taste, and could easily harm Anubis himself if it reentered his system. He doubted it would with how much of a vice Mor had depressing his throat.

    As his touch on reality began to fade, Light pooled within his palm casting a brilliant purple glow. Life Steal, as most Voidwalkers called it, dripping with the arcane that lit up the room to reveal his slackening jaw. Tilting at the elbow, he pressed the hand against Mor’s side and dug in with each of his small, stubby black claws. His second soon followed in an attempt at sustaining himself by leaching into his assailant. A violent tug of war for such a still body lying ramrod straight upon a fairly plush bed.