The Deathclaw Pack

The pack is frustrated, with bad hunting and no mates driving their moods to all-time lows. Being the largest, Kldraav has used the smaller pack members to relieve certain...frustrations, but it's no longer enough. Kldraav leads them on a long trek to the west, purposefully using roads in the hopes of running into trouble. The effort pays off.

It's like a gift from the Mother. A human sits under a tarp over a branch, near a fire. The pack can smell their blood - an obviously injured leg. Pain has likely made them less careful than they should be. They surround the small camp before moving in on them. As each deathclaw catches the scent, they all feel the excitement shooting straight to their cocks.
Kldraav: "Submit." The largest of the pack. He is huge and covered in black scales with undercurrents of red. His horns are larger and sweep upward more than down like the others. He stands before the human with a growl from low in his throat. His cock is already starting to throb behind his pubic scales.
Valdis: Circles the camp. He is green, around the same size as an average sized deathclaw, and his eyes seem vacant of thought.
Kerith: Is covered in near-white scales with red eyes. The intelligence in his eyes seems to meet or exceed that of most wastelanders. "I would listen, if I were you."