The Arch Wilder
"Fething backwater, boggy, gross, clingy, motherkarking planet!" You could take the boy out of the street, but ya couldn't take the street out of the boy. Even if that boy had been dressed up and turned into a king of a lost race... Maybe it wasn't the most kingly manner for him to present himself, but as he slashed through yet another vine, Vulpesen growled at the surroundings. Dagobah. A literal stinkhole of the galaxy and the location of his most recent assignment. How much more he would have preferred to just sit back, maybe ride through the forest back home, but nope... He had to take the assignment of this particular crook. How was he to know that the man would go racing into a swamp filled planet for asylum. Now, here he was tracking and hoping he could pin down the bastard's location.
He let out a heavy breath and leaned against a tree. "Bastard's lucky we don't believe in killing. But I sear, if he so much as says 'pew pew...'" His hand reached up and wiped away, was that sweat? Swamp bog? He couldn't tell anymore. "Go and do missions sire... it inspires the men sire... Gonna hit that damned assistant with a shovel."
[member="Kiara"]
He let out a heavy breath and leaned against a tree. "Bastard's lucky we don't believe in killing. But I sear, if he so much as says 'pew pew...'" His hand reached up and wiped away, was that sweat? Swamp bog? He couldn't tell anymore. "Go and do missions sire... it inspires the men sire... Gonna hit that damned assistant with a shovel."
[member="Kiara"]