Wrathion leans away as the glass crashes across the floor, draws his blade and rushes closer as they roll.
"Anduin!"
The only problem is, the two figures are locked together as they roll. He thinks he noticed something dark in the eyes of one, but their movements are rapid and the last thing he needs is to cause harm to the real man. What a pathetic end to his miserable existence that would be, harming the people he loves. Fitting, in a way. He sheathes his blade in frustration, tries to grip the figure currently on top and wrench it off. Panic tightens a grip on his heart, visions of himself tearing into one of them only to feel blood run down his claws while the creature laughs at him.
(His body twisting, shrieking, metal plates clamping down --)
"Help me," he growls. Something, something Anduin would know. Some clue. His mind races, because there's no time for a long question or answer. "The Red Crane's name," he prompts. That's short, fast. Yet would the creature know that? How much of Anduin has it mimicked?
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"Anduin!"
The only problem is, the two figures are locked together as they roll. He thinks he noticed something dark in the eyes of one, but their movements are rapid and the last thing he needs is to cause harm to the real man. What a pathetic end to his miserable existence that would be, harming the people he loves. Fitting, in a way. He sheathes his blade in frustration, tries to grip the figure currently on top and wrench it off. Panic tightens a grip on his heart, visions of himself tearing into one of them only to feel blood run down his claws while the creature laughs at him.
(His body twisting, shrieking, metal plates clamping down --)
"Help me," he growls. Something, something Anduin would know. Some clue. His mind races, because there's no time for a long question or answer. "The Red Crane's name," he prompts. That's short, fast. Yet would the creature know that? How much of Anduin has it mimicked?