The demoness had been patrolling the borders that night, for no other reason than fate, if you believed in that kind of bullshit. Her lithe crimson body slid through the shadows, its form not as fit as it had once been, but these bones could kill in an instant. That was their sole purpose.

It just so happened that on this round about the territory that Samus Aran picked up the scent of a stranger. Sure, many had been coming to the borders recently, some more acquainted with the pack than others, but each of them foreign in their perfumes. This newest lass was no different; she held a completely blank canvas in her odor, one that Malignant could paint any way she wished. The bounty hunter had already started towards the rendezvous point when the girl let out a peace-shattering howl. Samus grimaced and pinned her auds. Way to ruin a bloody good night. This stranger obviously did not know the force she was up against.

Samus appeared soon enough, slinking out from behind a rather large tree trunk, emerald eyes aflame. She kept her head and banner low; one a sign of her rank, another a sign of her hostility. This was no loving, rose-colored haven. Samus would be sure this newcomer knew that. “On your back if you know what’s good for ya,” she snarled, a coy grin on her kissers.