Red earth and brightly-colored tents made an almost cheerful mosaic outside the caverns of the small outpost in the Mare Tyrrhenum territories. It wasn't often that there were travellers, and far less often when those travellers had been welcomed and anxiously anticipated. Within the armored and armed wagons that carried the outsiders were supplies needed to continue the fight for freedom and the fight to survive. The leaders of the troop brought information to the outlying clusters of Martians, the merchants handled tradegoods, and the stars of the caravan provided the rarest treasure to the downtrodden. They gave them music. They brought to each mind peace within the throes of metal lust and techno rhythms, reminding them of their planets greatest treasure, the freedom to be alive.
The metal band had finished playing, the barely middle-aged lead giving way to the small young Mousling with the odd black spots marring her otherwise snowy fur, letting her dance and sing songs that made the people smile and move with her encouragement. Her Command-assigned guard, the half-blood, hung to the rear of the stage, the curtained area his preferred vantage point to watch the crowds and perform his duty. All there had a job to do that they devoted their hearts and souls to, and willing gave all for.
Music hummed, bodies moved to the rhythm, minds eased into relaxed states of being even as their Elders closed deals for the necessities and information.
The music shifted and flowed easily from one melody to the next, guided by the beat that set feet to moving and tails to twitching for those less athletically inclined. Remix, as she was known for the stage, energetically led the festivities as her child voice soared through the crescendos and oftentimes odd trills, giving back to the crowd her own youth and energy. 'This is where I should be. I was right to fight... This... is magical... I would have never dreamed of this kind of response on Earth...' Only a few knew of her confusing tale, and it had been unanimously agreed on by those same few that no one else should know. She had no issue with that. Her memories and knowledge from her old self carried over and were helping people far more desperate for some normalcy in their lives than a cracked-out addict with mama issues.
The half-blood's keen ears picked up the sounds of the small engines growing closer to their location and nodded to a fellow in their troop. "I'm hearin' engines... Small 'uns. Keep an eye out fer Miss Mix while I check it out... No one gets close ta her..." He was glad the rest of the caravan was easygoing and willing to listen to him. That had been a new experience to him, and the first time it had happened had scared him so badly he refused to leave his room for a day. He grinned to himself as he eased along the outer edges of the crowd, the memories of Mix threatening to drag him back out of the room by his ear for being... what did she say... Baka? Yeah, that was it.
The massive brown male slipped into the shadows to wait, his longer, more Ratlike muzzle twitching as he caught the scents the wind brought him, and rubbed the three grey M-marks on the top of his muzzle. "Lookin' like we gots us Biker Rats? Ain't th' first time..." He settled and waited in the shadows, red eyes and pointed ears alert for every possible clue he could garner.
Jacket held up his fist calling a halt to the others. They weren't that far from the edge of the camp and the young music. At least to the older rat it sounded you. Jumping off his bike, he pulled off his helmet, revealing his scarred face and both sharply bent ears that did not give him a rat like ear appearance. Acid and Vandal followed suite.
"You know, it sounds like a females voice, young..." Acid commented walking up next to the taller and brawnier rat.
His ears twitched ever so slightly to listen. "Could be." He growled he was the last one to be asking about singing. According to everyone he was musically tone deft. He thought Gage sounded great and everyone else just wish she'd keep it to the shower.
Vandal set his set his helmet down on his bikes seat. Strolling up to then past his brothers, he squared his shoulders and kept his weapons harnessed. They weren't looking for trouble, just a pit stop and maybe some grub. He was ready to bargain with what little they had in order to secure that.
"hello?" Vandal called in a more confident voice than he felt inside.
Jacket frowned. "Van, wait up." His long legs stride quickly after the teen he and Cid were guarding.
The pointed ears perked up at the brief conversation the group had. Their body language spoke volumes to him. They didn't mean harm, but they were leery about being there and would do whatever it took to protect themselves. 'Know tha' thinkin' all too well... Too bad many still don' get it... We're all Mars' kids...'
As they passed by his hiding spot he chuffed a soft alert. He had the advantage with darkness and his ever-present poisons, even if he was out-numbered... He growled softly after the soft coughing sound in Rat, "an' wha'in Mars' name are y'all thinkin' comin' here, packin'? This ain't a bar lookin' fer a brawl..."
Vandal caught the chuff making him pause. As soon as he heard the voice, it was strange, a thick accent he wasn't used to. He raised his arms a little bit to show he was carrying and wasn't going to use them, unless he needed to. "Can you repeat that?" He asked turning around to face the owner of the voice that make his ears flick.
Acid smiled at the deep rumbly voice, the accent too it just made him go 'ooooh!' inside. Catching the look in Cid's eyes, Jacket whapped him upside the head with his thick tail and grunted. The sandy brown hybrid rubbed the back of his head, giving his lover a look and flushing at the same time.
"We ain't lookin'fer trouble. Just a place ta cool down n' crash." Jacket growled trying to keep the dangerous tone out of his voice. It was hard to do. "Ain't about ta roam tha desert empty handed either."
Strychnine stepped carefully around them, working hard to keep them from getting a look at the acoutrements he always carried as he sized them up versus their words. "If'n y'all ain't packin' some kinda heat out there, then yer deservin' th' extra perforations... I'm recommendin' y'all leave 'em at yer bikes. Ain't no one here dumb 'nough t' rile even a half-blood wit' th' prejudices..."
He stepped up and let himself be seen. He wasn't as large as the full Rat, but it was clear he was heading that way with height. Slitted eyes watched the trio carefully and noted the odd reactions between the apparent leader and the apparent second.
The grayish furred cut eared Vandal stared in awe. "You're... a hybrid." he muttered forgetting his manors. The antennas looked normal for a mouse. The solid color hybrid was defiantly going to be 'rat' height. The face and ears said rat, the hair mouse the body structure he wasn't sure really, it was his best guess a mouse, starting to buff out. The bent tail told him he didn't get a great start either, the foof of fur at the end okay, that was just lucky and cute! Blinking back his surprise at himself, he unharnessed his two pistols and handed them over to Acid to take back to the bikes.
"If that's the rules we can certainly follow them." the teen nodded, trying to keep eye/head contact with the moving hybrid who looked and dangerous.
Acid glared at the teen, taking the guns, then Jacket's who was far than willing to just hand them over. He alone took them back to the bikes.
"You make us go in unarmed, and by the looks of you, you are armed. Hypocritical or setting us up?" Jacket growled narrowing his red eyes at the young hybrid.
"Jacket!" Vandal hissed angerly. "We're the outsiders, mind yer manors!" turning back to the other hybrid. "Sorry, he gets cranky when he's too hot."
"Y'all hear tha' Mousling on stage?" He lifted his head and tilted it slightly in the direction of the music, which changed gears at that moment and rolled into a fast, perky beat. "I got 'ssigned as her bodyguard few years back. Ain't no one touchin' her wit'out losin' their life. An' tha' order come from Command..." He waved for them to follow him as he made his way back around the edges of the crowd itself. "She's an odd 'un, but when th' higher-ups got some bug up their tails 'bout tryin' t' protect th'... future generations," his voice growled, "she got th' bright idea 'bout singin' an' takin' herself outta their reach. Only way they'd do it peaceable was me..."
His tail flicked as if pointing out the crowd to them. "An' if'n y'all look 'round, ain't none armed in th' crowd but us tha' work as secur'ty fer ev'ryone. No singlin' out or Fender'd have a litter o' full-grown cats..."
"we're all odd." Acid shrugged. "We all protect the young, like we protect Vandal."
Jacket shook his head giving Cid a 'shut up' look.
Acid frowned. Jacket never liked giving too much away at any time. How were they going to make friends and get anyone to trust them? Or trust anyone?
"It kinda sounds like home, the guards are all armed, and they take care of the civilians. But at home, civilians can be armed too." Vandal nodded looking around, he didn't really look at the stage, but he did like this siging.
"Who's Fender?" Vandal asked. "And what's your name?" his dark green eyes traveled over the crowds. The hybrid was right, they weren't armed to the teeth, some had a few knick knacks on them that could be considered possibly weapons but not actual instant kills like guns.
He brought them to the rear of the stage area and nodded to an middle-aged buff-colored Mouse with two scars under his left eye and shaggy hair. "Tha' one there's Fender, an' th' singer now's his daughter Mix." The older Mouse turned at the sound of his name and showed no signs of wariness or nervousness at the newcomers, nodding his acknowledgement of them. "He sings too, an' plays tha' green beast o' a guitar fer th' metal band tha' tours. Mixie's kinda th' nightcap t' help th' young'uns sleep after burnin' off energy..." It almost looked as though the half-blood grinned as the trio of grey M-marks crinkled slightly.
"Hey Strych, think yer friends there can help get the amps back in the truck?" Fender stood and clapped the youth on the shoulder hard enough to force him to step to the side.
Strychnine rubbed his arm and grumbled, "yer more'n strong 'nough yet, Fender Sir, don' you give me none o' tha' old age yarp..."
Jacket stayed back from the mouse. Yes he did look more than capable of doing work. He wasn't sure just what an amp was, he figured it might be a mouse or rat or someone without any arms or legs, isn't that what it was called? an Amp?
Acid smiled, "We'd be happy to help with anything that needs to be done." He offered.
"If we can get a cool down in, maybe a sleep in? food? ... a shower would be nice..." Vandal put in quietly. "but if you don't have the resource... it's okay."
Jacket nodded at the boy, he wasn't going to stop him, he needed to learn and he was doing so far so good. At least between him and Cid they were polite.
The crowd erupted into applause suddenly, both Fender and Strychnine's ears twitching at the sound having expected it. "If you think you can stomach my cooking, yer welcome at our fire. Strych here's a good judge of character, so if yer here, he trusts ya enough to extend hospitality." The older Mouse had to raise his voice a bit to be heard over the crowd and the laughter of the girl's voice. "Shower, we don't have water out here at this location, but we do have a couple older sonic cleaners in that truck over there yer free to use. They'll clean damn near anything, if you get my drift..." He chuckled as his comment confirmed he hadn't missed the dusty look of the trio's clothes. "You help get the gear in, you got food and a place to crash."
"Come on, guys, I can't sing anymore! You've worn ME out!" The crowd ate up the energetic Mousling's stage antics as she tried, as usual, to get off-stage. Both groups had the same issues these days from the entertainment-starved people, but they always assured the ones they visited that they'd be back with the next cycle. "I promise we'll be back in a few months' time! You know that, and you know we keep our word! Thank you all for being so wonderful tonight, and may the fire for freedom never fade in your hearts!"
Mix stepped back behind the curtains where the men stood and blinked at the arrivals. "I take it I missed something again?" She tilted her head to the side and looked UP at them. Tiny beads and stones had been woven into her hair to help secure it as she danced, and her outfit had the appearance of very modified Biker sport armor in fabrics and leathers that had been dyed in ways to make the colors shift between purple and gold. "I'm Mix, and you guys are..." She held out her hand, waiting quietly.
Acid took the young girls hand and shook it lightly. "I'm Acid." he introduced, his soft deep pink eyes not missing her mis-matched eyes. "You got a very pretty voice." he let her hand go. "And body guard."
The dark rat groaned. "Jacket." he nodded from the back, not going to touch the little delicate thing. "You got a way with the crowd." it was as much of a compliment as he could get without adding sarcasm to it.
"I'm Vandal." The youngest of the group smiled, giving Acid a nudge with his hip, taking her hand carefully into his and kissing the back of it. His dark green eyes looked over her like a smitten puppy. Okay, he was a smitten hybrid. "You can a very beautiful voice." he had yet to grow into his large hands, his thumb rubbed over her fingers. "Acid and Jacket are my guards and brothers..." He trailed off not sure what to say to such a cute patched furred girl.
Strychnine and Fender watched the proceedings, the half-blood's pierced ear twitching slightly when the youngest of the lot, Vandal, took Mix's proffered hand and kissed the back of it. Fender's sharp eyes didn't miss the tell and he laughed, making Strychnine blush and grumble under his breath.
Mix lowered her head to each of the newcomers in an informal bow and blinked, eyes wide at the genteel manners of Vandal. She had become accustomed to the rough and ready lifestyle of most Martians and had told her two guardians she felt like she was in an old black and white western. Oddly enough, they had understood the reference. To see manners had her blush bright under her white fur. "Ahhh, thank you... I try... I want people to relax and have fun... and remember there's more to life than war... I hope I do so with each show..." She had to blink several times before she could disengage her eyes from his. She couldn't think of any way to let go of his hand. Then again, she wasn't sure she could think right then...
Jacket cleared his throat. "Vandal, give the pup her hand back and let's find the Amp. Yer in no state to be trying to impress anyone lookin' n' smellin' like ya do."
Vandal's cut ears fell dramatically he let go of her small delicate hand, his own leaving dust smudges on her fur. "Sorry." he muttered embarrassed but still smiling. "I'll see you again, soon pretty Mix."
Acid had taken a step closer to Strychnine after getting nudged from the little kid. "What's an amp?" he asked curiously of the more rat looking hybrid. "Where do we pick it up and where's the truck?"
Fender's laughter grew in volume as he watched the tailtip twitch on his younger friend. "I am gettin' outta here before you make me die laughing, boy! This is too rich!" He walked towards one of the smaller trucks with tears streaming from his eyes, still laughing.
"Y'all don' know wha' an amp is?" He turned to look at the light tan half-blood... 'no, he called himself an' th' other... hie-birds, or som'thin'...' He pointed to a stack of black carpeted boxes that varied in size, grates and dials on the front of each. "Them's amps, an' don' let 'em fool ya... They weigh loads more'n they look. An' they're delicate... S'no bumpin' them 'round... I done tha' once, an' my ears were burnin' bad three months later..."
"You somehow broke two of the tubes and the speaker cone in the same shot..." Mix stuck her tongue out at him. "You can't blame Fender for being pissed over that one... It took us a few different raids to get the tubes again."
Strychnine picked up one amp that was as tall as Mix and carefully set it on a pull dolly. "Yeah, I remember..." He groaned.
"Oh, carry the speakers." Acid smiled. "Speakers, amps, got it." he followed Strych's lead putting a surprisingly heavy box onto a dolly and wheeling it off.
Jacket gave Vandal a shove away from the young girl. "Try someone closer to your own age." He growled picking up a small square box, it wasn't that heavy. The large rat carried it without a roller wheelie thing.
Vandal glanced back at Mix, following Jacket with an amp on a dollie. "She is, I mean close enough. And she's cute, and nice, and its true what she said about freedom and alll..."
"You even hear what she said?" Jacket growled.
"Yeah she said she wants people to relax and have fun... and remember there's more to life than war...with each show."
Jacket groaned.
The back of the truck had a long ramp to aid in getting the amps loaded along with the rest of their equipment, adn Strychnine easily pushed the amp up and to a locker that matched its size once it was off the dolly. "Th' amps all got numbers on 'em, an' th' numbers match th' lockers. Makes it easier t'find 'em an' stash 'em fast if we gotta move an' got th' warnin' with time." One entire side of the cavernous trailer was lined with lockers of different sizes, some clearly for other pieces of equipment besides the amps. "We kin get most o' what's out there inta this one truck, then we kin rest. Won' take longer'n an hour most."
He let his breath pass slowly in and out of his lungs as he settled his twitching to work. He knew the trio weren't trouble, yet they were in a way he didn't understand. He rubbed at his muzzle in thought as they went back for more.
"He... thinks I'm pretty? Who'd've thunk it..." Mix giggled like the young thirteen year old she looked to be and suddenly felt like and turned towards the primary med-truck, which also held the sonic cleaners, pausing long enough to get a change of clothes and chat for a moment with other caravaneers as they crossed paths. She had a grin on her face that she couldn't quite get rid of, and had no clue she wore, as she dropped what she had been wearing and stepped inside the cleaner.
Vandal leaned against the last amp as it was snapped into place. Panting and more sweaty then before he looked tiredly Strych. "May I clean up now?" He asked, breathing hard. Clearly not used to such heavy lifting labor.
Jacket wrenched the last strap into place before jumping out of the trailer. He wasn't even going to bother to ask, he seen the Sonic cleaner and was heading for it. "Van, stop being polite, it's this way, get a move on." he growled. "We'll do more in a bit."
Acid shook his head. "Remind me to let him sleep for as long as we can. He's more cankerous than usual." Looking over to Strych. "We are good to wash up and break? Or is there another job to be done?"
Vandal frowned at Acid's offer of another job, he didn't know if his poor arms could take it.
Strychnine went to each amp locker and confirmed each was secured to the caravan leader's requirements and paused. "Ain't no more other'n th' tents, but them's stayin' up fer th' night. Go on an' git cleaned. Fender's cookin' ain't much t'write home 'bout, but it's good an' disappears fast these days wit' Mixie nearin' an overdue growth spurt..." He stepped out of the trailer and pointed to the one fire on the edge of the rest. "'S where we're situated... None 'o us feels comfortable 'less we kin see an' hear troubles..." He waved to Several as they made their way to the cleaners.
Mix rubbed the dry soap deep into her fur to strip out any dirt, sweat or fur glitter that had survived the show and let her mind become lost in the thought that someone might think she was cute for more than her singing. She had realized there were some things that were universal concerns as their gypsy caravan had become more well-known: over-zealous fans and stalkers... They had been taken care of as quickly as possible, but she had a few frights in the past. But someone who just thought she was cute? She clamped her muzzle shut as she tried not to giggle again.
The sound of her cleaner's door opening had her turn to look as she began to speak. She stopped immediately, caught off-guard by the very large black, scarred Rat she'd been introduced to standing in the doorway.
Jacket raised a brow at the kid. He glanced around the thing called a Sonic Cleaner. It was far more than just one stall and there wasn't any others he seen either. He peeled off his tank top, his boots, belt then his pants, tossing them in the little dryer looking thing that said 'Clothes here' He didn't give a shit about the girl and he wasn't caring what she saw of him either. "Ya stayin' or ya screaming and leavin'?" he growled at her at least being decent and not taking the spray thingie doo-hickie stall right next to her. He slid out of his boxers.
His ear drums just about burst.
She was somewhat self-trained vocally, but no training in the world could match the shriek of a young girl of any race as she finds herself looking at something that would have broken her brain if her old human self had seen it. She snatched her tank top and tugged it on, then a towel and snapped it at Jacket. "Didn't your mom ever teach you manners?! Crissakes! I'm a KID, hello! Are you trying to scar my mind?!"
The screech from the med-truck and the cleaners had Strychnine and several others immediately running for the door and struggling in a way that would have had them laughing at any other time to get through it at once. "Dammit! Mixie! Y'all ok?! Can ya hear me?!" Strychnine let his strength flex more and forced his way in and past the others. "Mixie! Mi..."
Mismatched eyes snapped around to glare at Strychnine and the rest that sorted themselves out behind him, ready to start yelling at them, then slowly, very slowly, the blush returned to her cheeks as she realized she had been so busy trying to towelsnap Jacket she hadn't pulled pants on or wrapped herself up in another towel.
Jacket smirked, the towel whacking just below his rear. "Careful ya don't hit anythin' delicate there missy." He chuckled not bothered by the kid, she didn't have the power behind her arms to really lay it on, and if she did...he would be enjoying it. "My daddy didn't have any manners." He smirked at least protecting himself by shifting his body away from her towel snaps.
The door burst open, the large rat glanced at the group and then the girl. He handed her a loose towel. He at least hadn't tried to towel snap her. "Prude." he hissed at her.
Mix reached over and took the towel, and with each move measured and careful, tightened it around her waist before she scooped up her clean cargo pants. "I will bite every last one of you if you don't clear the door in three seconds..."
Those who had travelled with her and had known her over the past three years knew the threat from her was valid and moved aside as quickly as possible, especially since it was extremely clear every last strand of fur on her body was standing on end.
Strychnine blinked, then moved to get to the other two newcomers and get them back out of the med-truck. "She ain't shittin' on tha'! She will bite, an' NOT in pleasant ways!" He looked over his shoulder as his charge stalked stiff-legged past everyone and clear of the trailer. "She's righ' pissed now... She's gonna stay tha' way fer a while... Sheeeeit..."
Vandal sighed looking down at the ground, he wasn't going to sneak a peek at her, he wasn't going to be that mean. He did see her fluffed out like a cute lil' squirrel bat. "Ya got a feelin' Jacket's behind this Cid?" He muttered heading towards the trailer once Mix was out of the way.
"I'll be surprised if he isn't, he isn't exactly modest in any way." Acid grumbled. "I bet we get to clean up and run, if we're lucky."
"Lucky enough not to get shot." Vandal muttered to his bro. "Or drag Jackie's corpse home..."
The large rat just shook his head. He never had much tact, or modesty, or anything that was acceptable outside of his own territory. Acid ad Slate had taught him more about the real world. And times like this, Slate would have been assist.
Strychnine kept himself as schooled and calm as he possibly could as he turned and brought himself nose to nose with the Rat. "I'd ask t' have word wit' y'all, but I can't afford t' wait. I get th' feelin' y'all ain't too socialized much, an' I kin understand tha'. I had a Rat doe bitch o' a dam tha' really done numbers on my personable skills. But one thing she did drive inta my head was this... ALLUS knock onna damned stall door afore walkin' in! Or shit like tha' happens!" He turned and was very happy with how he'd not pulled a Mix and puffed out as well, although he hadn't noticed his thick, coarser head hair was significantly fluffier as he paused to nod to the other two. "Dinner's in twenty. I gotta find Mix afore her bad luck finds her again..."
She paused long enough once she was clear of anyone to drop the towel and tug the cargo pants on over her hips before she turned and wandered outside the recognized boundaries of the camp. There was an outcropping outside that she had seen before and very carefully, she climbed up to it. She was distracted, she was upset, she was...
"Humiliated... That's about right. Absolutely, totally humiliated." She sniffed as stars started peeking and winking in the twilight above her head. "No one else BUT me would be that stupid! Gods, and were the other two there as well as Strychnine and Jacket? Who else..." She groaned as she realized the number that had seen that. "Gods, why me..." She buried her head in her arms as she sat on the rock, and let silent tears trickle down her cheeks.
Jacket blinked, his bent ears flicked back. "I.. uh..." he stammered before being left alone. Finishing this in all honestly 'blow dry' shower, he retrieved his clean clothes, not sure how they did but what ever, they were.
Vandal and Acid climbed in. "Bro... you scared the crap about of her. Couldn't you wait until you ... what dropped your pants?" He groaned. "Dude! Your a fucking moose you prolly scared her half to death!"
Jacket blinked, then smirked. Grabbing himself and raising it. "Moooo!"
Vandal and Acid just blinked before burst out laughing.
"Bro! Yer an ass. Dress n' get out." Vandal snickered pointing to the door.
It took the two hybrids a bit to understand the sonic cleaner, they hopped out fresh as daisies and hungry. "Let's home they don't poison our food." Vandal muttered heading to the fires.
"I'd be a bit more concerned where Mix got herself to... Strych's no slouch, and he can't find her."
Fender's voice rumbled behind Van and Acid. His arms were crossed and he didn't seem too pleased. It didn't build confidence for them that he wore the full father expression. "She has social anxiety issues and tends to bolt if somethin' negative happens to her. She's bolted, and done a very good job of hidin' her ass this time. She does this every now and again, I ain't blamin' you guys fer this, just next time, think..."
The buff-colored Mouse walked past them both to the fire where the savory scent of a stew could be picked out of the air.
Mix curled upon the outcropping, her back pressed against the far wall to keep herself hid as she twisted her body enough to watch the stars coming out overhead. “Men... always the same... I don't wanna see that shit! Ewwwww!” She shivered and stuck her tongue out at the thought. “Ick... That was just... gross...”
She rested there, ignoring the thought that... maybe... the concept of love wasn't so bad... with the right man, of course...
"Jacket" Vandal glared at his older brother.
"Oh, don't give me that look." Jacket snarled. "Ain't my fault she's a prude."
Gritting his teeth, the youngest of the trio shook his head. "Ya don't just go and do that! It's.. just.. no.. you just don't." he rubbed his clean forehead. "Look, take Acid and... go.. sit by the fire." He ordered. "Yer lucky the damn leader here isn't tanning your hyde, I feel like I should be. Your old enough to know better!"
Jacket glared at him, snarling.
Acid tugged on Jacket's arm. "Come on, sit, eat... and stay quiet." Acid's softer voice ordered in a way it sounded more the a suggestion.
The large rat, huffed, swinging his head looking from one to another. He finally nodded at Acid getting lead away.
Vandal shook his head. He didn't believe his dad that this was going to be hard work, now he did believe him. Hands in his clean jean pockets, he moved away from the fire and around the camp. If he was an embarrassed or teased teen, he wouldn't be anywhere near the fire or camp. He set about looking for a place that looked promising to find a hurt girl.
Mix let her mind wander as she looked into the night sky. It almost always soothed her nerves. Even here, with a different sky, the stars were still the same quiet orbs in the heavens, and offered her mind glimpses into time. She sighed softly, not fully aware anymore of anything around her. "Damn boys... doesn't matter what your race..."
Strychnine growled and cursed under his breath. He knew it had been a mistake to teach her how to hide as well as he could. She had excelled at the training he'd given, and figured out a few tricks of her own to make it even harder to find her if she tried. His path had him skirting the far side of camp as even his nose was employed, trying desperately to find a hint of her scent. "Damn girl... Y'all don' gotta hide all th' damned time..." He blushed as his mind reminded him as to why, and he shook his head violently. "Ain't th' time or even th' image t' be thinkin' of... Gotta find tha' damn fool child!"
Arbiter
The music thumping in the desert got the attention of three travelers. Weary from the road and long rides on the bikes.
The head of the group, an obvious rat with black fur and scars over his arms. The black tank top dusty and sweat stained, his weapon harness over his shoulders and chest. The second hand army issue bike with the AI disabled was sloppily painted flat black with normal house paint; none too thick either. This is Jacket.
To his right, his mate, a sandy brown hybrid with a fading light sandy blond underbelly. Three scars lined Acid's muzzle from a fight with Flag years ago. Acid's rat tail hair, blew in the wind behind him. Acid, body of a mouse, rat tail and rat coloration, his face looked much like a rats snout on a mouse's head. His ears rounder than a rats and slightly bigger. His whole personality is nothing short of a mouse.
On the otherside of Jacket, his baby half-brother. Vandal. The grayish-taupe furred hybrid was a clear mix between a rat and a mouse. His deep crimson hair tappered down to his neck nap. Two braids dangled infront of his ears. they were mouse shaped, with a long cut on either side. The ligher furless tail shaped and flexible as a mouses. "Can we stop?" Vandal asked, his voice a deep tone, still in the process of changing from child to adult.
Jacket considered; They all were needing a rest. "Yeah." The rat growled a deep gravely voice. "First sign of trouble, we blow it up and get the hell out of there." he slowed down easing towards the campment. Praying it was rat friendly.
"There are three things you can count on...."
"Your brains, your bros, and your bikes?" Vandal asked.
"No, Hunger, Thirst, and never a bathroom when you need it." Jacket grumbled.