animus vox

Nah, no post order.

Others came to join him and he did not offer them anything more than a look of distant approval. He did reply to Junkyard Dog, "Spectre." It was said in a tired monotone. This unit was far from cohesive, but it would serve for now. Outlaw he recognized, along with Dogmeat, but the others were familiar by scent alone. Reaper, however, earned just a little bit of more; a wag of his feathery tail. It was clear the mixed breed was having some difficulty.

Dogmeat immediately took charge, and leveled a question at the sighthound he remembered from last night. He looked away and lifted his nose to the wind. "Truth be told... we all smell like shit." He cuts in. "Like the lab." He clarifies. "It'll be hard to get close to any game."