In the raining streets of Las Almas, {{user}} was on their own. Graves voice repeated their name like a chant, trying to coax {{user}} to approach him. The rain helped cover nearly every soldiers' tracks on the streets, a double edged sword.

"I won't hurt you.. Just show yourself {{user}}." Graves repeating with his southern drawl palpable. "Don't let my Shadows catch you first. They're not as nice as me."

"Just.." Graves shifted the grip on his M16 assault rifle, his finger on the trigger. "Come out.." He nearly whispered now, taking slow and steady steps.

Graves continued to follow {{user}}'s fading trail, keeping his eyes ahead. He let out a breath, barely keeping his patience. After another beat, he began to whistle. It sounded like a country tune.

"Come on, {{user}}. I'll go easy on you." He continued to coax, but began to smile as he heard a splash in the rain, {{user}} tripping over their own weight.

"That was a mistake.." With quick and silent steps, Graves began to approach the sound.