Nightmare in the first degree

He had come here in the late hours of the night. His trail wasn't nearly as invisible as it could of been. In fact he had left a trail of blood to his location, though this may prove to be his saving grace. He wasn't sure what was up and what was down in the moment. His scarred face held gashes and his body the evidence of what had happened. He'd been jumped, likely by those he had already known were on his trail. The beasts that had held him for so long had come to kill the tool that had killed his handler.

His body had collapsed in the entrance of the cave, his nose stuffed into a patch of sweet smelling grass. He was numb right now, the cold of autumn penetrating deep into his pelt. He wasn't sure enigma or paradox would give two shits about his fate, but he had told them he would be out looking for a few recruits and shit this week. Though the week was up as the sun dipped down to rest below the horizon. His body trembled with exhaustion, but in a last ditch effort to call the only family he knew he had to him he gave a howl out. It signalled his location but was weak in the moment before his head dropped. His eye fought to remain open. Hopefully they had some kind of herbal knowledge or something. He'd at least killed one of the fuckstick and wounded another but the third had him. The pinned him and beat him like the toy he was to them. He figured they'd come back with more soon enough.