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Despite what popular opinion says, the ruins of Moscow are not an endless field of opportunity for a scavenger. Each year that goes by, destroys or degrades the treasure that can be winkled out of collapsed spaceports and skeleton skyscrapers. And if a paucity of loot was the only problem with spending one's time in the metal and concrete corpse of a giant, that would still make traversing the ruins extremely dangerous. But that is not the only problem.
Howling meets Hisoka's ears where they are located on the third floor of a crazily leaning former apartment block. Tinny, metallic howling. The man turns from his task of dismantling an old refrigeration unit, his narrow eyes narrowed further by having to peer through the red glare exuding from the Tower. The howls are far enough that they might not be due to him. Should they change to baying, then he'll worry.
They change to baying. At this the scavenger stands, lifts his homemade energy rifle, as well as the crimson balaclava covering his nose and mouth - worn for the dust, and the aesthetic. It didn't need to be adjusted, but one cannot face death metal hounds without looking one's best.