Keeping low, the white armour-clad Sangheili narrowed his green eyes. The creature's head occasionally darted around the corner of the alleyway, and saw the pair of Jiralhanae that seemed to keeping guard of some alleyway – possibly expecting him to have taken another route instead. Yet the fresh smell of death and crude explosive compounds hung in the air in the alleyways of High Charity. The gloriously brightness that was High Charity's artificial sun shone down into the war-torn suburbia. Both seemed to wield something akin to shortened brute-shots, with the occasional spike-grenade attached to their belts. A high-pitched snort occurred not far him, as a smaller Unggoy fought to keep his white respirator mask from clogging up. Sighing near-silently, Masa gently held his near-spent and altered Carbine in one hand as he patted the white backpack that belonged to his smaller comrade.
A re-assuring or helpful gesture that few Sangheili ever seemed to bestow upon a much-smaller creature, but Masa and Nahal were not your typical Sangheili and Unggoy pair. Both had been through many horrors... some that would make even the most jaded Zealot hesitate. Again Masa patted his companion's life-preserving backpack, to clear the building back-log of fluids that had began by a impossible chance-encounter with the wrong side of a gravity hammer. The taller and older Sangheili was surprised to see that Nahal had suffered little from a direct hit from the enraged Jiralhanae's attack. While the energy shields installed in the white-clad Unggoy's armour had saved him...the Fuel-rod cannon wielding Unggoy ihad/i to be blessed by some entity.
Almost grinning as Nahal tried to bat his hand away with a stubby paw, Masa peeked around the corner again, sharp green eyes looking past the debris of collapsed building-parts and the occasional fallen imported vegetation, to see the pair of heavily muscled brutes still nearby. Their scents - even from this distance - was appalling and offensive to his nostrils.
Snarling a silent snarl, he swivelled his lean head back to glance at Nahal, whom had just shook his head after muttering something about 'defective standard' equipment. Granted, Unggoy were not given the best protection compared to the Sangheili, as each proud warrior, even at the most basic rank, had personal shields and strong armour. Unggoy however did not and only wear harnesses designed to supply methane to breath and offered minimal protection during combat.
Nodding to Nahal for a second at most, Masa once again peeked around the corner, with the smaller Unggoy poking his mostly covered head around the corner, below Masa's waistline. Both warriors whipped around to sprint across to another corner in the alleyways, closer to the Jiralhanae pair as a fresh wave of ambient buzzing occurred around a corner behind them.
"Dammed insects..." Masa growled out as he sprinted across the alleyway, keeping low and sticking to cover as much as possible. With Nahal trotting in a fast yet amusingly awkward fashion. Both of the pair crouched as they reached the next corner, the sound of many Yanme'e suddenly became that much closer. Nahal echoed his distaste with a higher-pitched grunt, to the Sangheili's silent and re-assured amusement. Both did their best to become as small and discreet targets as possible, with Nahal having only to subtly trot behind a large piece of debris. The fuel-rod cannon sticking out and over the rock a little, as the small boulder seemed to provide an ad-hoc position to take cover and fire from.
Masa 'Zunikee however, had to settle for pressing his back up against the wall, the barrels of the changed carbine facing up as he looked to where the sound was coming from.
The buzzing sound became ten-fold over where he and his comrade used to be, as did the heart-beats of both Sangheili and Unggoy when the many Yanme'e buzzed several metres above the ground and past the alleyways, at least a dozen pairs of lightly armoured wings flew past the pair. Neither Masa nor Nahal fancied yet another irritating skirmish with the insectoid element of the rotting Covenant. The only re-assuring thought was that neither could tell the details of the swarm, so were at a sufficient distance as well as taking ample cover.
Watching, waiting, Masa 'Zunikee took in deep breaths while remaining practically silent, whereas Nahal was breathing in short gasp-like breaths. This earned the smaller white-clad Separatist a curt glance and a sort of quiet wort-like sound that reminded the Unggoy to control his breathing rate. The Unggoy's red-tinted eyes were wide from start to finish as he watched the swarm of Yanme'e warriors buzz into the distance...
Apparently to the same area that the banshees and other Yanme'e groups were heading to, thought this was, thankfully, away from where the pair desired to go. Waiting for several more seconds, Masa held his awkward crouching position, back pressed to the wall and mandibles wide open to allow him un-interrupted breathing, as he took no chances in revealing his position so quickly. All senses were fully utilised, for Masa did not wish to be discovered nor did Nahal.
For the last time, the white-armoured Sangheili peeked back around the corner, and saw the pair of Jiralhanae sharply turn to growl, and reach for their weapons.
Eyes widening, Masa 'Zunikee fell back into a squat and placed his back against the wall, sending Nahal several rapid head-shakes. A frown overcame Masa's face as he heard the gruntish snorting that he had actually come to recognise as a snicker, and sent Nahal a rather annoyed glance, immediately silencing the Unggoy.
iNot now brother… Not now…/i He mentally sighed, and did not find himself very surprised - at all - that he considered the smaller Unggoy a battle-brother. He and Nahal had been through much, and Masa was /bgreatly/b impressed with Nahal's strength, intelligence and tactical skill. He felt more than just any professional relationship, rather he considered Nahal, of all Unggoy, to be the closest thing to a best friend. That was possibly one reason why his reputation may have taken a slight beating, for the typical Sangheili was probably too narrow-minded to understand why another of their haughty kind wanted to be more associated with the mere and literal grunts, then with a far higher being.
He was about to move back around the corner, when a sudden assault of horrific sounds occurred. Gun-shots and guttural shrieks. Nahal's eyes widened at this. iThe flood… Monstrous beings!/i - Were Masa's thoughts, for the parasite had obviously arrived, whatever bodies put to use to set upon the now-unseen pair of Jiralhanae were relentless, merciless, and took nor gave no quarter…
Contorted cries of agony and senseless howls of insane words came from where the pair of Jiralhanae now fought, prior to being surprise-attacked by what sounded to be a small gang of parasite-controlled beings. A single dull explosion and a thud through the concrete ground permitted itself within the cacophony of mutilated sounds, followed by a fast succession of gun-shots. A few chunks of half-rotten and half-burnt flesh bounced past the corner, making Nahal hunker down behind the relative safety of a chunk of rubble. Neither could even identify bwhat/b to expect the owners of these body-parts used to look like.