FROM @watcher-lens
Normally when a watcher comes across something or someone they’re not used to seeing they amp up their lens brightness and blind whatever it is they’re threatened by.
Of course, that’s what normally happens. This watcher is more like…a discourser. He could act aggressively and destroy the retinas of everything he deems a threat. Or he could, simply, talk to them.
He comes across a woman; with hair like a fire kiln root and stealth habits like a very hard to spot fire kiln root. He observes her for now; from a distance. She’s crouched down and moving quite slowly. What is she doing exactly?
She readied her weapon it looks like and moved into the tall grass. The only reason he knew she was in there is because he didn’t see her exit that particular patch of grass. Otherwise, she’s essentially invisible.
The watcher did as he saw, as not to startle the woman by running up to her. He crouched as low as his metallic body would let him and he slowly made his way behind where he last saw her. When he was confident he was close enough gears and the machinery inside him could be heard whirring up and a single audio log was played. [You look very fashionable….apart from the mud]
WATCHERS ARE NOT something Aloy overlooks — the remains littering the area made it very clear. They’re relatively harmless and easy to handle on their own, but capable of quickly outnumbering her. A small part of her almost felt guilty taking them out from behind, but when even the slightest screech could alert a combat machine, it was far too dangerous to risk one wrong movement.
For now, though, her eyes are set on a strider, and an arrow is already aimed towards the container of blaze on its rear. She’s running a bit low on resources, and it seems to be the fastest way to clear out this herd in particular. Holding breath to steady herself, the hunter prepares her attack...
...Until the whirring causes her to quickly snap towards the direction. In a second, she could absolutely shatter the lens staring her down, but the audio log begins before she lets go.
Releasing tension on her bow, Aloy’s brows furrow, and for a moment she can only stare in bewilderment. A muttered “ What... “ is all she can manage before she begins scanning the watcher with her focus.
