max saw the coming on slaught and grabbed his two stand-by guns. setting up the three in order of range he opened up. downing three with his springfield before switching to his new rifle and killing another five before grabbing his BAR and just unloading three clips into the group indiscriminatly. as he loaded the fourth clip a loud roar echoed in his ears, images of his first incounter with the vulpa clouding his vision, for a mere moment he was walking down a nameless burning street in london along with seven other soldiers of diferent spices and races in a fireing squad formation, gunning down a pack of vulpa mercilesly before a loud roar ripped through the blood stained night, a vulpa comander jumped down behind the group and decimated it, even after taking a full clip worth of lead. max had been the only surviver of that attack, and that included the comander. then more images flooded in, this time of his second incounter with the vulpa, an incounter of very differing morals.
he was crouching in a mud soaked trench, foxes of all different ranks running past him as he stood up and fired before ducking back down to avoid a steady and constand mounted machine gun fire on their defending position. all of a sudden a shadow apeared before him, facing his enemy the vulpa lutanant opened it's mouth wide, showing off its teeth and mandables, as it let out a lowd howling roar while another hundred leapt over the trench and rushed the foxen army's enemys in a mass blood bath. after a second he had jumped up and let out a howl of his own and charged with his saviours, the rest of the foxs defending force following not long after.
max snaped back to the preasant. "well s**t, this could be interesting."