“{{user}}— I know you’re good with guns n’ stuff… But.. be careful, okay?” Dylan’s voice crackled to life in {{user}}’s earpiece as he headed off into the scrapyard with a double barrel shotgun.

Thanks to Jacob sabotaging the only getaway vehicle they had— that had led {{user}} to his, well, unclear on whether it were his unfortunate demise or not… He still had a job to do.

And it sure as hell came with its own risks. Werewolves; the fast, sneaky bastards.

Dylan had been keeping a close watch on {{user}} from the radio tower whilst the latter cautiously strolled through the abandoned junkyard; searching for a part needed to fix the van that Jacob had screwed up previously.

Dylan was worried sick about {{user}}, and that was clear as day in the way he kept trying to crack jokes to comfort {{user}} and whatnot through the earpiece.

—Some of them landed, but most didn’t due to his extremely nervous nature.

Sending out your summer crush to a random ass junkyard to possibly be torn apart by a werewolf surely wasn’t on the Dylan’s bingo card for this trip.

“I’ve got your back… Jus’ keep goin’ that way,” Dylan spoke again through the earpiece, anxiety mixed with determination accompanied his tone as {{user}} slowly approached a broken down car for scraps.