The wasteland was a barren place. A horrid place. A place where nightmares roamed. It was not a place for the faint of heart. Somewhere in the distance, a red scarf was fluttering, and spurred boots were clinking against the ever shifting sands. It seemed like yesterday. Hell on Earth. Not by nuclear bombing, but by some fanatical Satanist, trying to bring out the devil himself. Well, lot of good that did. Behind the man with the scarf and spurs, a Russian by the looks of his uniform, nine-tails swayed in the wind. Ears were hidden under the red barret. Three pistols in three different holsters, surrounded by rounds of ammo jingling together. A.... Russian cowboy? Well, hell did break loose, and hell did contain quite a bit of madness.<br/><br/>The man chuckled to himself, running the narration through his head. Russian cowboy. He liked that. It had a nice ring to it. People called Devlin demented ever since his ninth tail grew in. Because one tail made SUCH a difference. He tilted his head, his green eyes suddenly filled with thought. Come to think of it, he might be a tad touched in the head.<br/><br/>Pushing the thoughts aside, he pulled out one of his beloved revolvers and began twirling it around his hand deftly, nimbly. "Ah.... such a nice day for a stroll. Honestly, I kinda miss all the human hubbub. Damn fanatic relgious people. All he had to do was say the incantation wrong, and that wimpy little bastard would've been bitten hard. But NOOOOO! He had to go do his research!" He sighed, shaking his head, using his pistol to break one of the first floor windows to a run down appartment. "Well, maybe there's some kind of entertainment in one of these buildings." Nobody said being a kitsune would be this bo- "Oh hell no! You aren't going to think the word boring!" He pointed at himself, then nipped at his finger. "Don't you point at me you little bitch!" He sighed, shaking his head. "When you hold a conversation with yourself, you know you're bored."