Hoshor Plains just carry this gun, you'll even get paid

There was a low howl, causing his ears to perk up and his eyes to scan over the flatlands. A form in the distance looking almost like his commander but lacked the distinct Russian accent the man carried from their homeland and their mothertongue. Still, there was curiosity in his gaze as he approached the man. He kept his composure, chest out as he proudly strutted across the land.
 
The similarities between the wolf in front of him and his Paktan were stunning, though he knew that Virion beat the man out in size, if only barely… and the man was younger, and as a result not as war torn or experience in battle as he or his friend were. Still, there was no reason to expect violence between men. He was just relieved it was not some independently-thinking сука running around like she owned the lands. He had enough irritation for one day. “Hello.” The thick Russian accent carried over in greeting.