User blog comment:NyricTheDeceiver/Group RP: The Death of Social Darwinism/@comment-23854671-20151005002337/@comment-4684635-20151008232340

Dawson found himself in a grassy plains alongside his Palico Streak, his equipment intact along with his hammer made from Rathalos parts. He looked to the sky as the warden spoke, Streak giving a confused mew at their predicament. "Where are we minion?" said Streak as Dawson shrugged, just as unsure as he was.