FUCK YA CHICKEN STRIPS — RAID

Luca hated the texture of coal against his fur, but he knew all about making sacrifices to ensure that things went smoothly. Stealth was essential to missions like these, after all. At least the smoky smell was already pretty close to his natural scent, so that part didn't bother him as much as it would have otherwise. He hung close to Pincher as the orders were given, flicking an ear and taking off after Papercutter in the direction of the Starpool. Unlike most other raids that he'd been a part of, this one had a purpose. Collect a few shiny things and then get out. He could do that, he supposed. He dipped his paws into the lake and mirrored the actions of his clanmates, gripping as many shards as he could in his dainty maw before placing them in the belt pouch that hung from his side.

It was the screeching of a hawk that threw the canine off. The surprise of it all caused his powers to flare up, sending a pretty conspicuous plume of steam up around him. He cursed and leaped out the lake, the clink of the shards in his pouch telling him that he'd gathered enough for the time being. He shook off his paws before bounding in the direction of the boat, ignoring all the calls to battle around him. He wasn't here to fight, after all.