A Familiar Face [Bloodhound x Fuse]

Dessert

Bloodhound frowned as they brushed a crumpled and faded chip bag to the side with their boot. They passed an empty soda cup next, flattened against the pavement, then another. Their first instinct was to pick up the trash and locate the nearest garbage bin, but as the gust from a passing vehicle brought a plastic bag with it, they realized there were too many discarded items. The task would be endless. They wrinkled their nose involuntarily as they passed a grate on the sidewalk and the smell of waste and musty dampness reached their nostrils despite the filtration of their mask.

Discarded chewing gum and cigarette butts dotted the cement below their feet. Bloodhound counted the line breaks in the sidewalk as they tried to form their thoughts into coherent questions they could ask. They were not one to fill the quiet with filler, with empty and meaningless words, but it felt like they should be saying something. The pair passed by a few other pedestrians, their heads bowed over their phones, strange faces illuminated in the dark by the dim glow of a social media feed. It seemed that Walter and they were the only two without their eyes focused on a screen. Their gaze flicked to their right to peer at him. Despite the lack of conversation or his phone, he seemed content to walk like this, humming softly to himself.

Walter's arm brushed theirs as he made a left turn down the sidewalk, crossing the street despite the red hand blinking, warning them to stay in place. Bloodhound looked from the signal to Walter, hesitating, but there were no vehicles moving their way. He boldly kept going, already halfway across, and they did not want to get left behind. They rushed after him, slowing when they caught up to him.

Bloodhound examined the canvas jacket Walter had donned before they left, the pockets and back adorned with a multitude of patches and pins. There was seemingly no order to the decorations, a random assortment of band names, animals, and cartoon characters. Their eyes were drawn to one on his chest, a pin in the shape of an animal. The creature's body was rounded and soft, but instead of the small, dark nose they might expect, there was a bill. At its other end, a flat rudder-like tail curled upwards. The animal smiled and gripped a tiny knife in its webbed claws.

This was a neutral topic, a question about his collection. A safe query. "What is that?" Bloodhound asked, tapping the pin.

Walter looked down at his chest. "Aw, that lil' guy?" He smiled affectionately. "It's an animal we have back home on Salvo. Strange fellas, but adorable, right?"

"It is," they agreed, leaning a little closer to examine the words under the pin. 'Cute 'n' stabby' was written on the scroll beneath it. "Stabby?"

"Looks like it's ready for a cuddle, but it's got spurs with venom in its feet. Wouldn't kill ya, but...bloody painful, I'd imagine. I wouldn't mess with one."

"Ah," they said. "That seems wise. Most wildlife is better left undisturbed."

Walter reached up and smoothed his mustache, brushing down a stray hair that stuck up, then pushed his hands in his jacket pockets. "What about you? Got any odd creatures where you're from — Talos, right?"

"How did you know that?"

The tops of Walter's strong cheekbones took on a faint rosy tinge. He turned his face to the side, but the color did not escape the hunter's perception. "Ah, well, ya know," he started, then cleared his throat. "May have looked up your name a few weeks back. Was tryin' to learn more about the mysterious hunter I'd just met."

"Walter Fitzroy, you have been researching me?" A teasing smile crept across Bloodhound's lips, and a soft laugh passed through their respirator, slightly crackled and distorted from the machinery. "But, you are correct. My home is — was on Talos. My people still reside there." Their voice trailed off self-consciously. "Rather, some of them still do. Much has changed in my time away."