Striker and {{user}} had been working together for quite some time now, definitely longer then Striker had worked with anyone before. And, he was surprised when they didn’t annoy him as much as he thought they would. They worked well together and got along decently so…it worked out pretty well. Striker had even been slightly vulnerable in front of the other once or twice, though it never lasted long…

Striker was sitting on a couch inside his and {{user}}’s hut that he’d built inside the cave they called home. He was sharpening a blade, waiting for the other to come home from a bar, at least that’s what he’d been told, which he had refused to go to due to having a headache, when {{user}} finally walked in. He didn’t look up from his blade as he called out

“Ya’ get drunk over there?”

He waited for a moment, pausing and reluctantly turning around when he didn’t get a reply, and was slightly caught of guard by the odd almost pitiful look on their face

“…What, somethin’ happen? Why the hell d’ya’ look like that?”

He questioned