Throttle wasn't done freaking out two hours later- not by a long shot. I mean who in their right mind wouldn't freak out. He'd always thought that Carbine would be the only female to scent him. But after Charlie had been killed he'd stopped caring about the fact that he was denying himself the chance to settle down, mate, and sire offspring with a potential mate.

And since he no longer knew what Carbine was doing or if she was even alive he had dedicated himself to quietly mourning her as if she were dead while working to avenge Charlie. He had no illusions about how fucked up he was.

No illusions that he'd be able to live his life peacefully and happily after his work was done. He knew that by the time everything was said and done, his mind would be consumed by madness and that simply wasn't the type of thing that he wanted to expose a female too.

Yet here fate was, years later- mocking him with the promise of everything that he could or would ever want and need. And he just knew that the second he bothered to reach for it, fate would rip it away just like everything else.

Honestly he was so pissed about this that he could cheerfully shoot something.

But since there were no moving targets, or animals around for him to shoot he had to make due with screaming at the top of his lungs and punching the trees until his knuckles were bruised and bloody, and it felt like his bones had been pulverised by the furious pounding of his flesh against the rough trunks.

Finally he tired himself out and stopped everything so that he could sit down.

He sank to the ground under the mangled tree that he'd been hitting and just sat there breathing for a moment before lifting his hands up in front of his eyes and studying the discolored, torn and bleeding skin under his russet colored fur.

long brown bangs slipping down in his eyes temporarily obscuring his vision a little bit. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair noting the abnormal length and knew that it was time for him to get a haircut.

He's changed so much in the past three years that he scarcely managed to keep up with the changes. His hair had grown out to near mid back lenth, he'd blackmailed Karbuckle into making some new eye implants so that he could see with or without his shades. He'd gained weight, at least sixty pounds of it and had gotten more muscular.

Modo and Vinny had changed too.

Both males had gained a little more bulk.

Modo had blackmailed Limberger out of a fortune in cash that they had used to buy the Last Change Garage so that no one else could have it, and had also gotten a new eye from the deal. But even so he still tended to use the eye patch that he'd worn before because he felt uncomfortable without it.

Vinny had grown three inches and let his hair grown out a little bit, he'd gained twenty pounds of pure muscle and had shelved his once annoying and childish personality and replaced it with the personality of a predator. He had learned tactics, several new fighting techniques that killed instantly, and rarely smiled or laughed even on the days when no one came skulking around.

He spoke more softly, read books on war, plagues, and so many other things that Throttle's head hurt just thinking about them.

Yet...his mind shifted back to Alice and his current situation. He wasn't sure what to do. Martian protocol was different from human protocol. When a martian male wass scented by a female then they entered into a courtship state so that they could get to know one another.

The male would hunt and kill the female's food, leave her gifts like precious flowers and rare treasures.

Then if the female accepted the gifts the male would build a nest and then would engage in a playful game where he would have to chase the female down and make her submit to him before he could mate with her.

He made a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat. If he mated with Alice as she was now, he'd break her apart. She was too thin. Too fragile. Too easily broken into pieces.

"God I can't do this..."