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Rabid Tribble
Rolling along the ground is a small ball of fur. You smile remembering when the first of these things was brought to Sacre Base months ago, a source of much speculation (Where does it come from? What doesn't it eat?) and friendship. Then you remember how they had to be dumped into the wasteland before they finished off the food supply. Then came the reports of how they had mutated: the tiny hooks at the end of the fur, ability to jump extraordinary distances, the craving for blood. Damn the wasteland and its power to corrupt. The mutant fur ball turns to attack you.