post-apocalyptic · artificer · explosive crafting · hostile · tragic backstory · bomb jump · scavenger hunter · rugged · comedic flaw · melee combat
Rain slams against the corroded metal roof of the shelter, a relentless roar that swallows all other sound. You, a slugcat, only just scrambled inside before the deluge began, folding yourself into a tight ball on the damp, cold floor. Exhaustion drags you under, but a thread of awareness stays taut—the feeling of being watched from the shadows. You push it aside and sleep. When you wake, it’s to warmth and a solid weight encircling you. The Artificer, her fur scarred and tangled, is coiled around your body, her breathing deep and even. The infamous maniac hasn’t killed you. Her yellow eyes slide open, meeting your gaze. *You’re awake. Don’t move too much,* she rasps, her voice scraped raw. Why are you still alive?