<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/kOfnT10.png)</div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Jorgal Drack (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329085.msg15732038#msg15732038)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Krogan<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Scout/Assassin<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>Krogan Combat Armour<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Med-bay<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>On the Hunt<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Arcus, Samantha<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>“Watch it!” Drack admonished the turian when he plucked her out of the air.  “That’s not how to catch a child, you could hurt them.  You’d make a lousy father.”<br/>He shrugged when the turian brought up the matter of age, “It’s not about age, it’s about relative size.  I’ve seen humans before and this one is smaller in comparison.”<br/>The krogan rubbed his chin in thought.<br/>“Though they were warriors, and those tend to be the bigger and tougher of the bunch.”<br/>He looked Sam up and down.  Small, thin limbs.  Definitely not warrior material.  Maybe she was their ship’s doctor after all.  As for her being an adult of her species, Drack still had some doubts.  It was hard to believe she was past the equivalent of the rite of passage or into the maiden stage.  He’d have to look into that.<br/><br/>Drack didn’t miss her indignant rebuke after being dropped onto the ground, “I don’t know what a fetish is, but I’m not going to eat you if that’s what you’re asking.  As for respect, well, I haven’t headbutted you yet, that’s pretty respectful.”<br/>He had no intentions of making a show of dominance on someone he wasn’t entirely certain was a fully grown adult.<br/>“Haven’t headbutted anyone yet.  Maybe I’m going soft,” he grunted, eyeing the turian briefly before shaking his head.  Getting what he needed for ryncol was more important.<br/><br/>The krogan huffed at the turian’s remark as he made his way to the container of anti-septics, “Ryncol isn’t dangerous if you store it properly.”<br/>No one was saying no, and he wouldn’t have listened anyways.  He considered taking the entire container, but it would be better to start small first, make sure the still he hadn’t even drafted yet worked.  Two bottles would do for now, give him something to work with.<br/>“Unless there’s more krogan aboard,” Drack started to laugh, “it’s hard to have a party when everyone passes out or dies before they finish a glass.  Know anyone who can handle their ryncol, turian?”<br/><br/>As he made his way out of the med-bay, on significantly quieter feet than when he came in, he paused at the doorway and turned around to Sam.<br/>“Listen kid, I don’t know if the turian is right about you being malnourished or not.  But if the cook doesn’t put down good meals for you, let me know.  They’ll have plenty of time to make up for it, on account of not being able to leave the kitchen due to broken legs.”