It was moving toward him, a guttural laughing sound echoing from its maw, tongue lolling to the side as thick saliva dripped from its fangs.
The creature's gait was familiar—the hunched shoulders, the thick limbs, the jerking rhythm of its stride. Even from afar, Bruce recognized it instantly.
A Mutant Laughing Hyena.
The beast roamed restlessly, its large body prowling across the dusty terrain. Even as a sound-affinity predator, it retained that primal scavenger instinct.
And when it saw the scattered corpses lying around Bruce, the scent of fresh blood heavy in the air, it didn't hesitate.
It charged.
The creature was enormous, towering over its lesser kin with a height of nearly seven feet and a weight well over three hundred pounds. Its fur was a mottled mix of browns and grays, crisscrossed with jagged black streaks that shimmered faintly when it moved.
