Redhawk Caldera we all sell our souls (sooner than later).

"Can I help you two with somethin'?"

The Tundrian barked out from a distance, just as he was catching up to see which strangers had just arrived at the Caldera's borders. Though it soon turned out that these strangers weren't much of strangers afterall....or were they?

Both of the scents that drafted from the outside were vaguely farmiliar, but not farmiliar enough for Ignis to slap a face and a name next to them right away. One of them -- a young girl with light and dirty blonde fur stood in the near distance, and he could've sworn he'd recognized her from passing. Not just from the Caldera -- but from a distant memory as well. Even still, they were virtually unrecognizable for the present.

Another was a red man that stood some distance infront of the young woman, and they were red -- red as hell. It was the perfect word to describe what visually stook out the most about him, but again, it was the scent that veered off of them he was most concerned about. No memory had stuck completely to it yet, but it did manage to make his fur bristle just a bit -- so suddenly that Āzon didn't even realize it at first. Was his gut trying to make him remember something important?

The brute said nothing else as he stood there, only waited for some names, an introduction -- something. Anything that would explain this weird feeling he was having....