[center][b][u]Train Tunnel[/b][/u][/center] As the pairs started nearing each other, loud, mechanical crunching could be heard coming down one of the tunnels none had gone through, the way that the train usually took to get from Forever Fall to Vale. The metallic crunching grew louder, as if something massive and heavy was crushing the rails underneath its wake...needless to say, they'd have to repair the rails before anymore trains could pass through here. Eventually, even from where the pairs were, they could both hear a loud, metallic voicec say: [b]"PERIMETER HAS BEEN BREACHED! INITIATING PROTOCOL TR-7803K, LIMITERS DISABLED"[/b] they would hear what sounded like steam hissing out of a pipe as something heavy and metallic fell to the floor of the tunnel...two distinct drops could be heard. The metallic footsteps sounded like they were getting louder and louder and faster approaching, until eventually they could see what was [url=http://i.imgur.com/yfLqnOe.png]making all the noise.[/url] It didn't take the machine more than half a second to glance at Gren, then to switch on the something akin to headlights on its chest, both pointed directly at him before its twin tails whipped upwards, and inserted into the massive shoulder pad-guns on its back, which whirred as two barrels stuck out of the grills and extending over its collar bone. [b]"TARGET ACQUIRED"[/b] was all it said before opening fire on Gren. On its back there was a sort of black-metal box tied against it...inside were the cards desired by the two pairs in the train tunnels. --- [center][b][u]Edgar, the Pasture[/b][/u][/center] Red. Red. RED. REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED. Kill. Red. KILL. RED. MAKE THE BLOODY PAIN STOOOOOOP! Huh? Edgar was confused by the sudden lack of something warm and wet sploshing across his horns...the red water humans were filled with. Where was he? Where was red? Turning his head back quickly, Edgar saw what was impossible...he...missed? But...that was impossible. Regardless, if Red was still alive, that meant he had reason to be mad, reason still to be out of the hole. A reason still to kill the red. Lowering its re-sharpened horns, it scrapped its fore-hoof against the grass, ripping a massive chunk of dirt and grass out and flinging it behind him, and then charging, steam almost billowing from its nose. This time, however, instead of trying to hit red directly, he would dig his horns into the dirt at the last minute, he couldn't dodge if he lost his footing.