Wulv

Wulv spends the majority of the journey to Kaglan H32 quietly tending to his weapons. The massive Vesk is short of tongue but very dilligent when it comes to gear care and maintenance. As the ship descends from orbit into the atmosphere of the planet, and the vicious dust storms swirling outside are picked up by the sensors, Wulv makes a second pass of his loadout for the mission. His pack is laden with munitions, strapped in various pockets and compartments lining the outside of his combat-grade pack. Then, in a larger pocket, there's five R2E rations packed neatly in a stack, chrome canisters gleaming. Lashed to the outside of the pack with a cord is an industrial-grade mobile hotelier. The Vesk lifts the heavily-outfitted pack with ease and straps it to his back.

Finally, the starship doors open and Wulv steps out onto the surface. He cups a hand over his visor, peering out into the obscured horizon. He can barely make out the outline of the city ruins beyond the harsh conditions of the dust storm enveloping the group. He listens attentively while the others plan, though doesn't offer any suggestions himself. Wulv is a simple man, content to follow orders and crack heads when needed.

When Aya pats his shoulder, he slowly turns his head and smiles blankly. "Wulv got yer back." Curt and matter-of-fact, he answers, in his low, rumbling tone. At Uisa's query, Wulv snaps into a quick salute, and says, "Take point. Roger." He moves to the front of the formation, his boots crunching heavily in the unfamiliar soil below.