 A Proud Yautja Hunter Elite clad in segmented pauldrons, cuirass & plackart. Lightweight cuisse plates strapped to the quadriceps. Plated greaves on calves & vambraces on the forearms. Medicomp, smart discs, shuriken, snares and cable adorn the hunter's belt-the anchor strapped to the other armor pieces. Arrogant, bold, fearless, resilient & strong bares his biceps and buttocks for glory and honor.  A hunter-prey roams the third planet of the Sol system. The Wolf-a creature with the endurance and constitution of Legend has held its hunting ground for over 134 solar orbit cycles claiming the lives of of a clan's worth of elite hunters in no less than three sorties. Glory of glories, the favor of War upon who may prowess and superior tactics of a true warrior.  Plasma caster is rent asunder by the Wolf's war blades-they extend from its hands! All of my medicomps have been used and burns have closed all of my wounds. I have exhausted my equipment from my belt. It is now direct attacks, parry and riposte. The wolf has bled out like the flayed.
Also, my lime ink is apparently straight mad fucked.
