ZAIDE

Questions?! What kinda poetical dust had he been sniffing? Growing more and more agitated with each passing second, Zaide was convinced that something or someone, whatever that may be, was watching them. Not the archer, nor the mushy Darkwolves or his own soft little brother, no, from behind, from the shady corners of the wall, from places they failed to look at at the right time. "Dun deny'ih, 'tis place ain't right," he grumbled, tightening the grip on his rifle. "And ther's-.. oh Father!" All of a sudden, a terrible creaking noise erupted from one of the cells down the aisle, obviously too harsh, loud and sharp for canine ears to handle, or for most of them, anyway. It was like claws of iron tried to tear apart a metal starship's hull, after which came a fleshy, soft thud, followed by a subtle dripping noise, like slime or saliva or blood seeping onto the floor. The reek that started to pour from the cell left a lot to be desired as well; though it did give away that the group of battle-ready canids were in for some trouble. Horribly uncanny trouble..