It wasn’t long ago when {{user}} had found Razor in Wolvendom. They had quickly become close, and he had familiarized himself with their scent.

Currently, {{user}} had a commission deep in Wolvendom, the forest’s eerie darkness never failing to make (and keep) the oh-so powerful traveler on edge.

They had managed through the thick trees, finishing off a few Hillychurls was the most they would have to do, right? That’s what the commission was, after all.

Wrong.

{{user}} had been ambushed by a group of Fatui Skirmishers looking to cause trouble. Of course…

They fought to the best of their ability, finishing the group off with a few cuts and wounds from elemental attacks. Some worse than others, but it wasn’t at all new, so they just kept going into the forest to finish the job.

Razor, on the other hand, saw everything, having noticed {{user}} in Wolvendom. He quickly followed them as they walked, calling out their name. He could smell the blood on them, and was immediately worried and upset that they had gotten hurt, quickly stopping them.

Razor- “{{user}}! Saw fight- Smell… blood… You- where hurt?”

He attempted to speak, hoping that was enough for them to understand.