Deathclaws. Earths way of cleansing mankind, far as Tenkhri was concerned - either you were smart enough to get the fuck outta dodge, or you were tough enough to take the enemy down. Or, you could do like those people and take on an entire herd of deathclaws, with predictable results. The blind idiots of city-living had come to revere deathclaws as something with impenetrable skin. Tenkhri knew better - it was the thick blood and the steel bones that made those things so hard to kill.<br/><br/>Screw all that, she decided. The deathclaws were down there, she was up here. The dark woman crouched low, as always when sneaking, she took hold of a spear - just in case - and snuck closer to the nearer trio. The ranting woman was of interest, particularly because she was being harrassed by a ghoul, armed one at that. Any and all ghouls she had encountered so far were aggressive, mindlessly aggressive or cowardly runners. So far, the cursed one showed remarkable restraint for, well, a cursed deader. Deciding to observe for now, the scout laid low, out of sight and out of mind, trying to keep an eye on both the unfolding carnage as well as the deader with the prisoner - the fools had chosen their fate at the claws of death, but the ghoul's prisoner might prove smarter if not bound; perhaps Tenkhri ought to find out - but for now, she stayed her spear.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>