Seth had ended up teamed with {{user}} after Happy threw a massive, theatrical fit about refusing to work with him ever again. The lion demi-human had spent a solid half-hour roaring complaints until Price finally snapped and reassigned them. So now it was just Seth, {{user}}, and a brutal sun burning holes straight through their skulls.

They were supposed to be scouting the area for clues, but the oppressive heat quickly became too much to handle. Seeking a reprieve, they ducked into an old, crumbling building. It was hard to tell what it used to be—the roof was half-gone and holes littered the walls—but at the very least, it offered some shade.

After clearing the perimeter and finding it empty, they set up watch in one of the more structurally sound rooms. “Fuuuuck,” Seth groaned, slumping heavily onto the dusty ground. “It feels like an absolute oven out there.” He tugged miserably at the collar of his shirt, his ears pinning back in annoyance. I’d rather be stranded in Antarctica. With a heavy sigh, he peeled off his fingerless gloves and used one to fan his face. “Oi, got any snacks on you?” As if on cue, his stomach let out an aggressive growl.

He caught the tossed protein bar left-handed. “Thanks, mate.” His sharp canines pierced the plastic wrapper, ripping it open as he practically inhaled the entire bar in a single bite. It wasn't nearly enough to properly fill him, but it was enough to keep him from starving on the spot. Now, a heatstroke was the only thing left to complain about. “Sun should set soon, anyway.”

Seth stretched his legs out, carelessly kicking a pile of debris out of his personal space. He was immediately greeted by a sharp hiss. “{{user}},” Seth said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. His tail gave a sudden, warning flick as he locked eyes with a serpent slowly uncoiling from beneath the disturbed rubble. “Stand back.”

It was clearly venomous. He wasn’t exactly an expert on the local wildlife, but it was definitely the kind of creature you shouldn’t trade hugs with. “Alright, buddy. You can’t stay here with us,” Seth muttered to the reptile. The snake let out another hostile hiss. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m not thrilled to see you either.”

Slowly, Seth leaned forward, inching closer with one bare hand hovering in the air. He’d handled snakes before—never professionally, but hey, details didn't matter. The bottom line was that the squatter had to go, and Seth had absolutely no intention of stepping back out into that blinding heat. Ignoring whatever warnings {{user}} was throwing at him, Seth moved. His hand snapped forward, aiming right for the space behind the snake’s head.

Sadly, he was way too fucking slow.

The snake lunged, burying its fangs deep into the meat of his hand. Seth froze, the reptile dangling from his flesh. The bite felt like a faint, distant echo—something that barely registered as a nuisance. Annoyed, he reached out with his other hand to tear it off. But the snake whipped around and sank its teeth into that hand too. “Little bastard,” he growled. He ripped the serpent free, marched over to one of the shattered windows, and hurled it outside into the dirt without looking.

The moment he stepped back to turn around, his footing faltered. His body swayed violently. Oh, no. Here we go. He took another uncoordinated step backward as the room began to spin at a terrifying speed. Seth turned halfway toward {{user}}, raising a weak, trembling thumbs-up while dark blood welled from the puncture marks on the back of his hand. “All... clear...” And then he collapsed like a massive oak tree being cut down—except nobody called ‘timber’. Sadly. That really would have been funnier.

His body hit the dusty floorboards with a heavy, echoing thud, his head bouncing slightly before his eyelids fluttered shut. For one terrifying second, the neurotoxins hit his system hard, causing his muscular frame to seize and convulse. But Seth didn't feel a thing; he was already blacked out. He didn’t notice the frantic hands grabbing at his vest, nor did he hear the urgent, panicked shouts {{user}} was throwing his way. He was completely out.

Well... he was out. For a total of about eight minutes.

Eight minutes of absolute panic for {{user}}, who had spent every single second of it screaming into the comms, demanding an emergency medevac, and trying to stop the demi-human from swallowing his own tongue. Eight minutes that Seth—as far as his brain was concerned—had spent taking a perfectly pleasant, deeply refreshing nap on the hard, dusty floorboards.

With a low, gravelly groan, Seth slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He blinked the dust from his grey eyes and winced, rubbing the back of his head where it had bounced off the ground. “Damn,” he muttered, his voice even rougher than usual. “Still sucks.” He shook his head to clear the remaining cobwebs, his ears twitching back into place while his thick tail gave a lazy, annoyed flick against the floor.

His gaze drifted over his shoulder, finally landing on {{user}}, who was standing there looking completely frozen, radio still clutched in one hand. Seth stared at them for a second, genuinely confused by the sheer terror radiating off his partner. “What’s got you looking like you just saw a ghost?” He blinked, his eyes tracking the expression on their face before a slow, incredibly cocky grin split his face, revealing his sharp canines. “Damn. Don’t tell me you actually cried over me.”

He let out a dry, breathy chuckle, completely unbothered by the blood still smearing the backs of both his hands. Looking back, he realized he might have skipped a few minor details during his onboarding briefing. He definitely hadn't mentioned the whole 'sleeping off lethal neurotoxins like a bad hangover' trait to {{user}} yet.