[center][b]Ribald[/b][/center]

The sun shined bright as light and distanced clouds danced about the the sky. The air fresh and crisp with just a tinge of biting cold to remind you that you were alive. 
It was dreadful, Ribald quickly draped the curtains, sealed the heavy metal sills and shut himself from the world that reminded him too much of the rolling plains and clear skies of Wisconsin. Fortunately the sun hadn't ruined any of the multitude of volatile chemicals in the room, and for that Ribald was thankful. Fortunately his experiment was going well, the white tiled room was now painted a dark red. The results were surprising, Solution A to F(Heavy Metal Bases) had little effects, while Solution S-V (Carbo-Sulfates bases) held the more... spontaneous results. Ribald sighed, as fun as it was working with tissue and blood samples, he wanted a live specimen. Command wouldn't send him any while going on about 'logistics' and 'civilian safety.' Honestly he was bored, nothing happens in this shit town, the people were too nice, the streets too clean, and he was pretty sure command was bullshitting him when they said 'likely presence of Whiskey Tangoes.' He wanted live subjects and he wanted it now.

He prepped his pickup and opted to bring Cat along for the trip. A truck bed full of metal traps and boxes didn't seem too out of place in a town who enjoyed varied hunting vistas, and he drove out towards the more ancient trees of the Whatsawhosits Forest. 

The drear and mossy air in the dark undergrowth sat well with Ribald as he unloaded his truck. It was like a regular old pre-hunt briefing session, minus the yells to get him to pay attention. The blood packs would be smeared along tree trunks, staggered steps with broken branches, and faux antler markings simulated a animal on its last legs. All of this led to the climax, a Thule Society Favorite, a barbed titanium thread snare, certain to trap even a rampaging bull elephant. He read through the town's hunting laws: tags not needed for subsistence hunting, and traps are a-okay so long as they are humane (which his were definitely not, but no game warden comes this far into the woods and enforcement was lax over all.)

Afterwards he spent the morning setting multiple trails and traps, keeping his step light and humming a quiet tune he tried to keep his presence low; he'd rather not meet a beast while he was unprepared and alone. Of course he didn't expect anything substantial from this undertaking. While he hoped for a miracle, a regular wolf or bear would keep his freezer stocked for quite a bit. 


He'd come back, but he guessed it was about time for some eats and he called Cat back; if anything this town had great steak and grits.