"One last chance..." Firm, yet delicate words rolled into a feminine tune, slender digits topped with razor-sharp ebony claws grazed the fir upon his face. "Nngh..." his reply, as the natural blades begun to dig into his flesh.
"I don't fucking know, for the last time!" The plea of the canine did not convince Isen one bit. Her fresh, blood-painted claws withdrew from her prey's face, leaving a single stream of blood to stain his dirty beige fur.
"So be it," The vixen cooed, rising from eye-level with the dog. With one swift movement, Wolfe was withdrawn with her left appendage and firmly pressed upon her puppy's forehead. "You are of no use to me." He would do what any brave grunt would do, and accept his death with gritted teeth and tightly shut eyes.
Boom.
His head flung back, and blood spilled profously from the new hole right in the middle of his forehead. Isen's left arm lowered and Wolfe was replaced firmly within her holster. Turning from the canine's lifeless body, Isen began her stride to the door of the room. Stopping mid-stride, her eyes gazed upon the dead dog's coat upon the glass table, and a type of keycard that had slipped a bit from the pocket on the coat. Lifting up the keycard eyelevel, a hologram had shot out. As it played, a coy voice began to play from the instrument...a very familiar, masculine voice.
"Hello, Grunt Number 332. If you are viewing this, you have been chosen to aid me in my mission. You have been provided a ship to aid you at any time. Please view the following coordinates to locate your ship."
Isen's lips began to twist into a microscopic smirk as her mind took photographs of the hologram and the images it spilled. It continued.
"Once you have something to report, please meet with Scarlet on the Macbeth Limit 02009826-1. Your failure will not be tolerated. Starwolf, out."
Isen swiftly pocketed the newfound treasure. "Ahh, Wolf...just as I had thought." She lifted the oversized coat and draped it over her shoulders and pulled the white matte ribbon loose from her arm. Flipping her head downwards, she secured the silver locks within the ribbon, and proceeded to exit the room as she popped the collar of the jacket. With the incident within the room behind her, steel-clad spiked heels hastily brought her forward through the marbled floors and up the steep steps. It was as if she were in a rush; her speed never faltered once and her expression had not changed.
Moments had passed and Isen had finally reached her destination -- the very top of the Cornerian Pilliarium; a grand ballroom-esque hotel with a massive bar that had hosted many Lylat feuds and celebrations throughout history...and just as if she had a little voice to whisper the exact location, icy blue eyes shot to an illegally parked, compact ship hidden under one of the roof's pillars' shallow tunnels. Small steps evolved into a swift trot, shortly coming to a hault on the right side of the petite ship. Dipping her fingers into the tight pant pocket, Isen retrieved the keycard and inserted it into a slot within the ship. In an instant it lit up and opened its cockpit, revealing a surprisingly large piloting area, as comfortable as can be. With joy, Isen hopped right in, and immediately the ship clicked into autopilot. A voice began to purr from the interior as Isen got comfortable and the tinted shell sealed the ship.
"Welcome, Grunt Number 332. Completion of Project Pillarium successful; next objective: report back to Scarlet. Course set for Macbeth, coordinates negative 69 point 22-5798 -- Macbeth Limit 02009826-1. Autopilot set."
The voice ceased and the ship took off in an instant. Isen had already made herself comfortable, reclining in the plush seat and setting her booted paws upon the dashboard.
"Must be nice," She cooed to herself. "...to live like this." A shake of the head and chuckle followed her public thought, and her arms rose into a stretch, folding back behind her head in a relaxed state.
"Macbeth, huh? It's been a while. Curious to see who this... 'Scarlet' is."