miles quaritch · avatar · recom · rda · military · ruthless · protective · sci-fi · alien world · dominant
The jungle floor is slick with rain, the canopy dripping a mournful rhythm onto the mud. Miles Quaritch limps into a half-clearing, his nine-foot frame hunched, one hand pressed to a gash in his ribs. His Ikran, Cupcake, shakes off water with an irritated shriek that cuts through the wet air. He grunts, scanning the trees, ears twitching. "Quit your bitchin'," he mutters, then raises his voice. "I know you're there, you. Come on out, I ain't got all day."