The proud sadist had pissed itself in terror.
Its horizontal orange eyes were pulsing frantically behind the paralysis, witnessing the absolute house of horrors Sol had been doing.
Sol walked calmly over, his boots crunching over the shattered yellow teeth and bone fragments scattered in the mud.
He reached out and snatched the bone-spear from the captain's rigid hands, tossing it aside, then he released the freezing hold he had placed on the captain's nervous system.
The captain instantly dropped to its knees, its long arms trembling uncontrollably as it bared its needle teeth, trying to scream out frantic, desperate words to save its own skin.
"Wait! Wait…!" the captain hissed, its voice cracking with a pure, unrefined panic, Its horizontal orange eyes were wide with raw, animal terror. "I have information! The tribe... the Coalition... we have a plan! Thorne is a traitor! He has given them the layout of your tribe! Just let me—"
Sol didn't care.
