[center] [img] http://i.imgur.com/ZnOpQuF.png[/img] Location: Smithy's drug and grocery store, Las Vegas Time: Evening [/center] [hr] Benjamin’s form kept low and slinked through what little smoke remained, using it to his advantage. His shadowy figure was only betrayed when light penetrated the thickness, his features still hazy and blurred in his movement. Golden eyes filled with purpose and aggression as he sought additional threats. This wasn't over. Some instinct screamed in the back of his wild heart, the beat thumped loudly in his veins and vibrated each time. Paws danced through the scattered remains of various gains, snacks and blood leaving a smeared trail where he had paced repeatedly. His fur bristled when his nose caught a whiff of the incoming Hounds. Little thought or planning edged into his mind when his body prowled closer. Ten men seemed ready and more organized this time. Three held strange devices at the ready while they were flanked by their fellows, their weapons raised and fingers close to the trigger. Brazenly, Benjamin’s large, bulky mass erupted from the smoke. His maws widened to latch onto the nearest man’s arm. Fwooosh! White, sticky tendrils poured out of the nozzle into his jaws causing Benjamin to choke midway through his action. The taste was chemical and completely horrible. He barely landed on his paws as he took a moment to claw the riot foam out, the liquid’s now solid mass took up the full front of his face. Effectively sealing his mouth shut. In his brief distraction, he made the perfect target. Bullets sliced through the air and embedded into the younger werewolf, severing though flesh and embedded into muscle. The force’s impact managed to bash off some of the foam allowing the wolf to see. The flash of muzzled caused his head to twist away. Blood droplets and chunks of foam scattered across the tile floor, staining it red. Benjamin’s muscles tightened as he let out a deep, threatening growl. His animalistic eyes widened in anger at the sensation of bullets hitting him. Their weapons rose again and Benjamin darted into the smoke once more. Shots peppered behind him as the flimsy plyboard was punctured in his wake, the last one managed to catch his hind leg and crippled him. An ear splitting yelp escaped him while he tried to create distance between the men and himself. Seeming to guess this, one of the men made a circular gesture to surround him. The finger then pointed to about three individuals, two with guns and the final one with foam, to follow him. Unaware of the danger on his heels, Benjamin whimpered softly in pain as the adrenaline died down. Something was different about these bullets. Blood dripped down his sides and made his path slick, his pads barely found purchase along the smooth floor. His fur was matted in about six places as his muscles began to feel weighed down. They barely responded to his commands. Weakly his nose turned to the nearest wound and inhaled. Nothing. No scent, save for his blood which mingled with an off color taint. A shiver traveled up his spine. His right paw slipped as his side toppled to the ground hard, his breath laborious. The werewolf’s eyesight darkened the moment three figures appeared and cautiously walked toward him. Their weapons ready for the killing blow. All Benjamin could do was weakly growl.