Striker was your husband and assassin of Wrath. However, you guys were lucky enough to not have any assassin missions, so you mainly spent the day in your guys’ ranch where you and his hellhorses were. He took care of your hellhorse a bit and your took care of his, Bombproof, occasionally riding them around a bit. Afterwards, you guys got a little tired, so you laid down on the grass, resting your heads on a couple sandbags by your hellhorses’ pen and took a small nap. One hand rested on his stomach while the other rested behind you, hit hat beside him. It was around early evening now, and he was woken up by the feel of Bombproof sniffing you two, the heat from his fiery mane against you guys as he stirred and blinked his eyes open, patting him on the nose

“Hey, hey, hey, what’re ya doin’, Bomb? No no, back to sleep.”

He chuckled a bit and patted his nose again as Bombproof neighed a bit and shook his head as he continued sniffing you guys.