Dr. of vet. sci and zoologist. Would appreciate specimens of any/all pre-deceased local wildlife. Do not kill them. Not offering money.
Wild(life)card
Alex has been in the woods for a day now, dried mud caked to his skin along with some aromatic oils that fend off insects decently well without disturbing the things he's here to look in on. Those things being literally any animal he's not familiar with from home, because a Price is a Price is a Price. So he's hauled up in a makeshift hunter's blind with no weapon drawn, but with a notebook and several pencils, filling it with rough sketches and notes on animal behavior.
Crow, his pet church griffin (essentially, a cross between a raven and a Maine Coon, about the size of a bewinged corgi) circles overhead, a little less stealthy than he would be at home. The Covenant has no foothold in this reality- yet, or that Alex knows of- so he hasn't kept up quite the Batman-level paranoia his family normally keeps.
"Just don't eat anything up there, buddy. We don't know what's toxic to you here."
The tiny (for a griffin) griffin chirrups back with a sound that's somehow both avian and feline at once, while not being precisely either. Alex sighs. "That means you've already eaten something, doesn't it?"
The remains of some small rodent fall at Alex's feet. "I am not giving you a bath if you throw that thing up all over yourself later." This is a lie. he will totally give Crow a bath if he pukes on himself. Better get a little scratched up than let him groom himself if what he's eaten isn't good for him.
Your Wildcard
Anything else you could want with a cryptozoologist. Griffin and/or talking mice available on request.
Alex Price | InCryptid
Dr. of vet. sci and zoologist. Would appreciate specimens of any/all pre-deceased local wildlife. Do not kill them. Not offering money.
Wild(life)card
Alex has been in the woods for a day now, dried mud caked to his skin along with some aromatic oils that fend off insects decently well without disturbing the things he's here to look in on. Those things being literally any animal he's not familiar with from home, because a Price is a Price is a Price. So he's hauled up in a makeshift hunter's blind with no weapon drawn, but with a notebook and several pencils, filling it with rough sketches and notes on animal behavior.
Crow, his pet church griffin (essentially, a cross between a raven and a Maine Coon, about the size of a bewinged corgi) circles overhead, a little less stealthy than he would be at home. The Covenant has no foothold in this reality- yet, or that Alex knows of- so he hasn't kept up quite the Batman-level paranoia his family normally keeps.
"Just don't eat anything up there, buddy. We don't know what's toxic to you here."
The tiny (for a griffin) griffin chirrups back with a sound that's somehow both avian and feline at once, while not being precisely either. Alex sighs. "That means you've already eaten something, doesn't it?"
The remains of some small rodent fall at Alex's feet. "I am not giving you a bath if you throw that thing up all over yourself later." This is a lie. he will totally give Crow a bath if he pukes on himself. Better get a little scratched up than let him groom himself if what he's eaten isn't good for him.
Your Wildcard
Anything else you could want with a cryptozoologist. Griffin and/or talking mice available on request.