Wolf felt driven now. He had a purpose, a mission. After they had dropped from Striker Eureka, Wolf had followed his brothers into the dusty canyons. As they charged he kept an eye on his surroundings, always searching for a target. The canyon walls were a dirty mixture of orange and reddish hues. The many ruddy brown sections reminded Wolf of dried blood. Before the day was done he knew they would add a few more stains to the age-worn walls.

Moving ahead Wolf remained wary. This was the perfect place for an ambush and they had no real cover, save for the many nooks and eddies of the canyon walls. He would follow his orders however, and knew that if the clankers did decide to ambush them, then the troopers of the 67th would prove a whole helluva lot harder to kill than they thought.