If there was one word to describe Chrysotile these days, it was
wary. The encounter with the youma Koschei had shaken him -- he had no way of knowing at first glance what was a youma that belonged to some captain or general and what wasn't. And there were youma all over the place. Even in normal-seeming residential areas like the one he was in right now.
Glancing over his shoulder, the tall lieutenant hopped a hedgerow into the next neatly-groomed front yard, taking care to avoid the pools of light from the streetlamps. He wasn't sure he'd find any likely people to collect energy from this evening, but that was okay. That was the part of this Negaverse thing he hated the most anyway, out of all the things he hated about the Negaverse: the constant pressure to strip citizens of their vital life force to feed Metallia's ever-increasing demands. He would be glad to be done with all this.
As he crept through to the next yard, he suddenly sensed the presence of Order. A White Moon senshi, most likely, as the Knights seemed to be fewer in number. Chrysotile looked around for a place to hide, finally spotting an old oak tree. With long strides he crossed the lawn and as quietly as he could clambered up into its gnarled branches, concealing himself in the leaves. He hoped. He didn't want any trouble.
Lithiasaur
OMG sorry I am so slow… ;__; thank you for starting!