General Art

The yips and squeals of the whelps outside is what rouses Eidolon from his slumber. One long, pointed ear twitches, then he cracks open a single eye, then forces the other open as well. He yawns, pushing himself up to overhear the chirps and whistles of the whelps and the strange speech and laughter of their assigned Researcher, groggily looking for his translator collar to fasten around his neck. Of course it's on the other side of his hollow. Eidolon stretches, pushing himself...