Hoshor Plains clown incoming

the trespasser lets out a shriek and takes off; and while the wrangler rapidly takes in the situation and how he intended to react. it is a second of thought; a choice made, despite that he was running off little more than pure instinct at the moment.

arktos does not break stride, but does not push harder. at the moment, he has no children to protect and does not see the need as the trespasser is fleeing, to resort to violence.

he keeps pace behind the other man, only slowing when they are both past the borders. is your nose fuckin' broken? growls the wrangler as he slows to a stop, flanks lathered and breath heavy. for a moment, there was but a small flashback of another encounter paying to the forefront of his mind. this, at least, had a slightly better chance of going in a different direction.