Thirteen liked standing guard.

The first few times it wandered off from the mouth of tunnel G, it'd been scolded for wandering off. The punishments hadn't registered until its food had been cut-- at which point, it quickly got the message. It'd taken some cycles, but the valkhound had managed to find some form of a rhythm for itself. It stood guard after the lights in Pegasus dimmed, and once they began to brighten again, it was free to do as it would as someone else took over keeping watch.

In the nights that it stood there, watching and snapping at anything that happened too close, Thirteen liked to imagine what it would do with its free time. Sleeping was one good option, yes-- one it quite enjoyed despite the occasional Corruption-fuelled nightmare. But hunting was an even better option. Often, the valkhound coming to take over Thirteen's shift would find it drooling like a dog hearing a dinner bell, its tongue slavering over its thick lips as it thought about the herds of deer or little crunchy rabbits hiding in the plains over Pegasus. It always, without fail, turned to hunt before turning to Draco.

Maybe it was less the act of guarding itself, and more the routine it liked.

As per usual, as the lights brightened over Pegasus and V-Chaos-Thirteen was relieved from duty, it stalked out into the psuedo-dawn and followed a scent that had been enticing it all night. It quickly found a tunnel runner that must have wandered in from one of the connecting tunnels. Not that Thirteen really considered-- or even cared --where it'd come from. It was there. It was alone. And it was smaller than they were.

A neat lunge and bite into its jugular later, and Thirteen was dragging it along to its usual dining area; along the wall near tunnel G where a tree had settled into the rock, its leaves shading the worst of the growing light out of Thirteen's sensitive eyes. It sat and licked its jowls slowly before digging in, bones crunching as it horked chunks of deer into its maw.