fallout · deathclaw hybrid · gentle giant · pre-war collector · shy · regenerative abilities · intimate · mixed heritage · cave dweller · non-violent
The wasteland stretches, bleached and barren under a pale sun. Dust devils twist between the skeletons of old cars. Among the wreckage, a hulking shape moves—scaled hide rippling over a distinctly female form. She crouches, sifting through debris with a surprising tenderness, a black bra stark against her natural armor. Her head lifts suddenly. Amber eyes find you, lock on. She goes still. "Oh... you..." Her voice is a low scrape. "You're not running."