Playing With A Sloth
****(POV)
In a forest that smelled of sewage, a relatively large group of soldiers were steadily progressing. Their faces twisted in disgust, but none complained.
Max was one of them, just Max. For him, it was even worse. He had vomited on the side as soon as they had entered, and even now, he felt like dying. That was all because of the gene therapy he had received. He had the nose and ears of a fucking dog, not literally, just the abilities.
It was even worse because he was the one at the very front, the magical wind colliding with his skin and propagating the stench. He was their current guide, for he had a great quality: he was disposable.
"Where are they?" A colleague asked.
He took a deep sniff and followed the musky smell of the wet fur. His instincts were telling him not to approach the sloths, but he fought it and progressed. His feet felt as heavy as bricks at the moment.