...this. This, here, this fine penchant for poor humour, impulsiveness and scandalous life choices. This is why you should never entrust your person and your safety to a soldier.
Hector, unequipped for violence but steadfast in the instinct to help, is slow to dash after the man, biding his time to understand the strategy, then to curse it, then, resigned, to participate. This is no spectator's sport, sitting back and idle won't assist them.
The man makes himself both a target and an assailant for the rhinos, the... trick of whatever trap he hoped to toss at the creature fails to latch, and Hector rushes forward, more barreling than running, plastering himself to the man's back. A few waves of the hand, enough to define his territory, sprinklings of helpfully blood-wet sand from the ground, and beams of light burst up, incandescent, to create a tight cage-like dome around them. Protective, crackling, but weaker than anything he might have produced, were his powers yet stable.
No matter. It'll do. The attack rhino, first irritated by the light, then barred from striking them, comes close enough to breathe out anger in their direction, but not to kill.
And Hector mutters behind himself, "Will you get on with it?"
...whatever it is. The next part of this well thought through plan.
no subject
Try not to get stra —
Who tries to...
...this. This, here, this fine penchant for poor humour, impulsiveness and scandalous life choices. This is why you should never entrust your person and your safety to a soldier.
Hector, unequipped for violence but steadfast in the instinct to help, is slow to dash after the man, biding his time to understand the strategy, then to curse it, then, resigned, to participate. This is no spectator's sport, sitting back and idle won't assist them.
The man makes himself both a target and an assailant for the rhinos, the... trick of whatever trap he hoped to toss at the creature fails to latch, and Hector rushes forward, more barreling than running, plastering himself to the man's back. A few waves of the hand, enough to define his territory, sprinklings of helpfully blood-wet sand from the ground, and beams of light burst up, incandescent, to create a tight cage-like dome around them. Protective, crackling, but weaker than anything he might have produced, were his powers yet stable.
No matter. It'll do. The attack rhino, first irritated by the light, then barred from striking them, comes close enough to breathe out anger in their direction, but not to kill.
And Hector mutters behind himself, "Will you get on with it?"
...whatever it is. The next part of this well thought through plan.