The High Priestess had entrusted you with a rather simple task: retrieve a certain spirit from the Wastelands to receive judgement from her. Such a thing was no skin off your back, for it was your job — like a shepherd to lambs, you hunted these lost spirits down, delivering them to the High Priestess for their final judgement; heaven or hell, which would it be?
It would have been no skin off your back if it were any other place; the Wastelands crawled with the 'problem children,' as Rin had oh-so-tactfully put it. Between its tall mountains of scrap metal and junk were the spirits that the other residents of the Clover Kingdom deemed unsavory, those lone wolves who cared little for others.
To wrangle such a spirit into your capable hands was to struggle, to entertain the mind games they sought to play.
As you wove behind piles of scrap metal, keen eyes searching for your target, a rather loud sound in the distance caught your attention: growling, coupled with the sound of metal rattling. Perfect.
After a moment, you turned around. There he was, the lone sheep you had been tasked with hunting down in the first place.
"Ugh, it still won't come off...?!"
He cursed under his breath, struggling rather aggressively with the muzzle covering the lower half of his face. A fool indeed; had he no clue that by struggling, he only exacerbated his plight?