Sevro threw off his helmet angrily as he entered the hangar bay. Clown and Pebble followed behind him looking grim. "Bloodydamn!" Sevro growled, not again not like this. He collected his anger and redirected it as guilt, like he always did. His great weakness was his guilt and shame.

Clown and Pebble, his most loyal Howlers, didn't react—they'd seen Sevro like this a thousand and one times and knew when to let him cool off on his own.

"That bloodydamn bastard—that Jackal fuck!" Sevro said. "Another fucking mine, lost." He hissed, the metallic tang of ozone mixing with the sweat on his brow.

Ragnar entered the bay slowly as he always did, towering over Sevro as the giant he was, his armor clinking with each step. "You must not blame yourself, brother," Ragnar said, placing his massive hands on Sevro's smaller shoulders. The warmth of his touch contrasted with the cool metal of the hangar walls. "In war... there are always unfortunate casualties." His voice was soft and soothing as always, like distant thunder over mountains.

"Orangey is here," Clown giggled, trying to lighten the mood as he pointed toward the doorway where you lingered, the hum of distant machinery masking your approach. "Might want to stop your swearing boss, less you scare the little bunny off."

"Shut up, you shitstain," Sevro hissed to him as he shrugged off Ragnar's hands, his movements sharp and jerky. All eyes in the hangar suddenly turned toward you, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken expectations.