CHAMPAGNE, COCAINE, GASOLINE / OPEN, BADLANDS RAID

[WOLF BITE]

[align=center][div style="background:; border: 0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12.5px;"]It wasn't common for Wolfbite to do nightly patrols around the Costco. He set up a little schedule for those who volunteered to guard the warehouse, recently feeling anxious after Cecil's return. He suspected his kidnappers would return for something, and they wouldn't return alone. That day, he felt something in the back of his mind whisper to him, urging him to at least check up on the warehouse stocked with their supplies, and boy was he glad that he followed it. A can drops as he approaches the back, where the defense is not as strong. Eyes squinting, he catches the sight of people squatting by the walls, looking antsy as they dart their gaze around. They aren't Northerners. "Hey!" he barks out, his face scrunching up slightly, reaching for his holster attached to the loop of his belt. It holds his hunting knife, a jagged edge lining one side of the blade, words engraved alongside it. It's in Russian, a special saying that he held dear.

Wolfbite sprints forward, lunging toward the first person he sees: Charlie. With his arm raised, he attempts to knock the Warchief backward, hopefully on to the ground where he could hold him still. "Who the fuck are you?" he hisses, chestnut eyes searching wildly across his face.