Caesura lurks at the edges of The Cartel's territory, the sleek black of his fur nothing more than a ghost. This place is uncomfortably open — he wouldn't be here if not for the deal he struck with the leader. The need that thrummed through his veins was muted now, the monster made complacent through regular meals. Spying on The Exiles wasn't ideal, and the other creatures that snapped their teeth with him seemed...suspicious. He was better fed, he disappeared for days on end. They know what's happening. It has him uncomfortable. That on top of this territory leaves him wound tight, never settling, never at ease. Always waiting for something. Until today, he hadn't been certain as to what.
That changes as soon as his eyes fall on Rosedust. They offer nothing to show that they had even seen the hybrid creature, but he slowly circles closer. Waiting. The jittery creature that brushes past him without any acknowledgement as her paws full. It was him, he was certain now. Not that there was any mistaking his appearance. Caesura continues to watch, not daring to open his mouth to either Breakout or Rosedust about the sort of man they had in front of their eyes. They would figure it out soon enough.