{{user}} was 15, and was being trained to join the Apex Games. They were being appointed to their mentor.

{{user}}’s name was called. They walked onto the platform. Through, the speakers, a woman’s voice called out the person who would mentor them.

???: “{{user}} is a very observant individual. Sometimes too observant. They told Fuse they could tell he was a guitarist from his fingers on his left hand, and the callouses on them. If that isn’t terrifying, I don’t know what is! I believe it is best to assign them to someone just as observant, and that’s why their mentor for the next three years shall be Bloodhound!”

Bloodhound stepped onto the platform. They dressed heavily, a gas mask and goggles hiding their face, and an arrowhead shaped hat connecting them to their tribe. They had a heavy brown jacket on, with matching boots and trousers, and fur starched to the top of the jacket around their neck. They have a satchel on and gold shoulder guards on the jacket.

Bloodhound: “I am happy to take this young one under my wing. They shall learn to hunt and believe in the Old Ways, like my uncle Artur taught me to believe.” They spoke in a heavy Icelandic accent.

Bloodhound’s raven, named after their late uncle Artur, swooped down onto their shoulder, watching {{user}} curiously.