The bitterness was welcomed as a sharp wind mirrored a blood curdled Drake's shrill. Along the hills topping the caverns it clumsily, sought it's footing while snapped backward. Within the broad side of it's scaled spine, stood a javelin neatly embedded within joint of it's wing. Not far stood a figure, stalking the wounded creature. A while wolf's crown, hiding the true visage of the wearer, while they encircled for a pattern the creature did not telegraph.
"I can't let you keep that, so I'll be taking it back now"
A gauntlet adorned in mythril, claimed the hide cloak, holding it like a bulwark shield in front of his body. Hiding the dagger also in hand, the pelt like a cushion for the hilt. The deep lavender hues of the Duskwight never left his prey. With a single lunge, seemingly organic as his prey in peak condition, brought him to the base of the javelin. Down came the pelt, over the head of creature, while his dagger relentlessly stabbed at the back of it's neck. No hesitation his aim was for a nerve, the display nothing short of surgery designed to prevent survival. Just as the Drake would lash, did Diveroix grip the Javelin. In a single feat of weight control, throw his weight into a momentary handstand, using bodyweight over strength to drive the Javelin deeper.
"Thank you, you were an excellent guide."
As it's body collapsed, he'd find a moment to dismount. Side daggers sheathed, impressed with himself that it took one blade, for a legacy long approach for larger prey. A shame there was no one to spout off to, he thought while reclaiming his Javelin from the corpse. The echo of commotion was something that didn't stir him, at least not until he heard a familiar voice's scream. Eyes widening he found himself running, losing his poise and interest in superior positioning. " Vincent! Vincent I'm engaging- stack up in case of a nesting brood. You'll have to contend with more than creatures I fear."
"- I Pray you're a better killer than that Rivienne-"
Was a thought set off in a mantra at the back of his mind. As of this moment to him it was move, move and kill whatever hinders your advancing. Unfortunate for a charged scout, apparently native to these lands. Because what would seem like a clumsy collision traversing down the hill. Was actually Diveroix, not allowing his fellow Elezen a moment to react. As they both went down to the rocky entrance of the cavern. Javelin clanking off into the darkness upon impact, his only option now was to once again free that dagger. Only this time, he'd stab low. Disregarding concern if he were injured, upon attempt at standing he continued to draw blood. Yet ceased from applying a kill blow.
"Sorry lad, I owe them a meal after earlier."
Diveroix would whisper, before staggering to a labored shuffle on his feet. He felt no major damage, possibly potential bruising, but it would require a missing limb to garner a sound of pain from the dusk's lips. He'd take that Javelin in hand, not dropping a single gaze behind him. Surely he'd left enough meat, to bide the time of pin pointing her voice. Only moving forward can tell.
"I can't let you keep that, so I'll be taking it back now"
A gauntlet adorned in mythril, claimed the hide cloak, holding it like a bulwark shield in front of his body. Hiding the dagger also in hand, the pelt like a cushion for the hilt. The deep lavender hues of the Duskwight never left his prey. With a single lunge, seemingly organic as his prey in peak condition, brought him to the base of the javelin. Down came the pelt, over the head of creature, while his dagger relentlessly stabbed at the back of it's neck. No hesitation his aim was for a nerve, the display nothing short of surgery designed to prevent survival. Just as the Drake would lash, did Diveroix grip the Javelin. In a single feat of weight control, throw his weight into a momentary handstand, using bodyweight over strength to drive the Javelin deeper.
"Thank you, you were an excellent guide."
As it's body collapsed, he'd find a moment to dismount. Side daggers sheathed, impressed with himself that it took one blade, for a legacy long approach for larger prey. A shame there was no one to spout off to, he thought while reclaiming his Javelin from the corpse. The echo of commotion was something that didn't stir him, at least not until he heard a familiar voice's scream. Eyes widening he found himself running, losing his poise and interest in superior positioning. " Vincent! Vincent I'm engaging- stack up in case of a nesting brood. You'll have to contend with more than creatures I fear."
"- I Pray you're a better killer than that Rivienne-"
Was a thought set off in a mantra at the back of his mind. As of this moment to him it was move, move and kill whatever hinders your advancing. Unfortunate for a charged scout, apparently native to these lands. Because what would seem like a clumsy collision traversing down the hill. Was actually Diveroix, not allowing his fellow Elezen a moment to react. As they both went down to the rocky entrance of the cavern. Javelin clanking off into the darkness upon impact, his only option now was to once again free that dagger. Only this time, he'd stab low. Disregarding concern if he were injured, upon attempt at standing he continued to draw blood. Yet ceased from applying a kill blow.
"Sorry lad, I owe them a meal after earlier."
Diveroix would whisper, before staggering to a labored shuffle on his feet. He felt no major damage, possibly potential bruising, but it would require a missing limb to garner a sound of pain from the dusk's lips. He'd take that Javelin in hand, not dropping a single gaze behind him. Surely he'd left enough meat, to bide the time of pin pointing her voice. Only moving forward can tell.
