Characters: Hawke Grayson (Human), Roman (Mutt)
Area: Eastern region
Time: Somewhere in the late Evening/Night.
All was quiet as Evening fell over the seemingly abandoned and untouched warehouse, deepening the shadows surrounding it until they were almost black. The landscape, forever scarred and in a state of ruin after the war, was a mess. Debris from broken down vehicles, stripped clean of their useful parts, to other miscellaneous items lay scattered about. The silence that hung over the area could almost be described as peaceful, but to most it was a reason to be wary of approaching the structure. After all, one never knew who might be watching or, among all the debris, what sort of traps might be hidden. Sure enough, the silence was broken.
A shout rang out from behind the warehouse, where a dark haired male stood, handgun drawn and aimed as a small and grotesque looking creature a few feet away from him. Similar to that of a rat, though much larger in size, it snarled at the man, mouth frothing, thick strings of drool falling from its jaws. With a pull of a trigger, a shot was fired, the sound suppressed and almost nonexistent, but the creature across from him was faster and darted to the side and back down the hole in the ground it had climbed out of. A sound of annoyance escaped the male as he lowered the gun and listened to his surroundings. Feeling the ground just beneath his feet began to move, he looked down, aimed, and fired four shots just as the creature poked its head out of the ground. Earning a muffled shriek, the mole rat grew still and the area returned to its previous quiet state once more. "Damn rats." The male grumbled under his breath as he holstered the weapon. Letting out a tired sigh, he whistled and soon enough a black canine appeared, its muzzle glistening with an red liquid that dripped from it. A huff of amusement escape the human as he looked his canine companion over and made a brief comment. "Look at you, Roman. Seems like you've done something useful after all." A low bark was given by the canine in response as Hawke turned his head to look back at what he had been working on before the disturbance. The male had been setting up another steel jaw trap when the rat-like creature appeared out of the ground all of a sudden and, before he could so much as react, the thing had bitten him. Glancing down at the bite on his right hand, Hawke grimaced and let out a huff as he adjust the bag on his shoulders before he kneeled down next to the trap and went back to work.
Before, the multi-floor warehouse, connected to what seemed to be an old shop, had been overrun by creatures such as the one the male had encountered, chasing away whoever dared come close. Ever since he had set up a camp of sorts there a few weeks back and had gotten rid of most of those mutated creatures, they had avoided the area. But, there was always the occasional loner that wandered in on top of the occasional visits by a curious raider. To say the least, they were easy enough to take care of and, this being a more remote part of the land and a fair distance from the nearest city, the latter was rather rare. Still, Hawke had left the outside of the warehouse very much the same as before in order to not draw any unwanted attention to it. After all, he didn't need, or want, anymore people to set up around this area or think about attacking him for that matter. Soon enough, however, it wouldn't matter since he planned to move somewhere else in the next few days. Resources had begun to grow scarce and, in a place like this, hardly anything grew.
By the time Hawke had completed setting up the remaining traps, as well as checking older ones he had lain about before, it was already growing dark. Without any reason to stay outside longer, he headed back into the warehouse through the backdoor, Roman at his side. With a creak, it close behind them and Hawk only spared the space a glance before he maneuvered his way through the rows upon rows of crates. Some stacked high while others were placed haphazardly on tall shelves, he kicked a metal bucket of sorts out of his way as he walked, sending it clanging loudly off to the side and out of sight. Making his way up a flight of stairs, he reached the top floor and then, tossing his bag down next to him, flopped gracelessly on top of a few ammunitions crates. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, but he preferred it since a large open space was in front of it, allowing him to look out across the warehouse and keep an eye on his surroundings easily.
Pulling his bag up and onto his lap, Hawke began to rummage through the numerous items he had scavenged and, in some cases, stolen during his trek to a not too far off settlement earlier that day. Beside him, Roman looked up expectantly, patiently waiting for what the former raider and now thief might have brought him. Hawke didn't look at the dog, his hand wrapped around an object in his bag, but was very still. Just as Roman began to get restless, having noticed something was amiss, he tossed a fairly intact baseball over his shoulder. In a flash, the dog was gone, off to chase after it and, likely, tear it apart. Now left in peace, Hawke resumed looking through the items he had collected. "Useless." He said as he tossed one object off to the side, soon followed by another. This would continue on for a short while, a fair number of items being tossed aside as there were ones he could find some use for. Once a raider himself, Hawke had a falling out with his group a long time ago. He had disliked how they worked and, once he had left with only a few scars to remind him of the event, he found that he worked much better on his own, free from the bickering of his old group. When he was finished, Hawke leaned back against the munitions crate behind him and glanced over to where his dog was. Said canine was seated on the floor and had the ball he threw held between its paws and gnawed away at it. With a smirk, the thief then closed his eyes, the occasional bounce of a baseball that had escaped, soon to be be snatched back up by, Roman the only break in the silence.
[OOC: Crappy starter, but meh.]
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