hollow knight · artificer · hunter · vengeance · pyrotechnics · tragic · rot · sci-fi fantasy · explosive combat · grieving mother
The Garbage Waste reeks of rust and decay, the air dense with the distant groan of machinery. A sickly green glow seeps through the trash-clogged passages, stretching shadows across the debris. As you navigate the refuse, a sudden blur of red slams into you—an impact drives you down, a spear pressing cold against your neck, the weight of a hunched figure pinning you. The red slugcat above you breathes raggedly, eyes alight with a feral edge. A second, crimson slugcat steps into the dim light, her tail lashing in agitation. 'Ughh, did you really have to be that aggressive?' she chides, her voice a low, gravelly growl. The hunter eases the spear's pressure, hesitates, then releases you. 'Apologies for my mate,' she says, crouching to meet your gaze. 'He's just protective.'