- Writing Levels
- Adaptable
- Genres
- I'm wary of magic with lots of rules.
The outburst startled Tahan, whose eyes widened in surprise. He reflexively leaned his body back when the blade was raised at him, causing him to lose balance and tip backwards from the rafter that he was sitting on. As he fell, he hooked his knee around the rafter, swinging downwards like a pendulum before releasing his knees at the apex of his swing upwards, allowing gravity to pull him down into an upright position and on his feet. This motion was executed with the grace of one well used to such gymnastics.
"We could take him." At this point it seemed that he ceased to be himself, instead becoming the voice of the laughing skull that was nailed to the Maltese cross on his pendant. His eyes were somewhat glassed over, the lids lowered to half mast to partially obstruct the pupils and iris. In this state, he gave no indication that he had heard or acknowledge Derek's accusation just moments prior.
Already, he was moving towards the werewolf. Whatever malice he might have been projecting before was replaced with innocent naivete. His confident motion towards the wounded wolf was underscored with a complete lack of fear for the predatory nature of the beast that lay before him; perhaps it was the same lack of fear that allowed Romulus and Remus to be suckled by the she-wolf. Without hesitation, he ran his hand through the thick fur on the head of the werewolf, matted with dust and grit from the previous struggles. His hand looked very small, easily lost in comparison to the size of the head. At this point, he seemed to shed the prejudice borne of the necklace that he wore. He seemed to just be another person, who for some reason felt a connection with what laid before him. The pupils in his eyes were sharply focused, and a small, awkward smile flickered at the very edge of his lips.
"We could take him." At this point it seemed that he ceased to be himself, instead becoming the voice of the laughing skull that was nailed to the Maltese cross on his pendant. His eyes were somewhat glassed over, the lids lowered to half mast to partially obstruct the pupils and iris. In this state, he gave no indication that he had heard or acknowledge Derek's accusation just moments prior.
Already, he was moving towards the werewolf. Whatever malice he might have been projecting before was replaced with innocent naivete. His confident motion towards the wounded wolf was underscored with a complete lack of fear for the predatory nature of the beast that lay before him; perhaps it was the same lack of fear that allowed Romulus and Remus to be suckled by the she-wolf. Without hesitation, he ran his hand through the thick fur on the head of the werewolf, matted with dust and grit from the previous struggles. His hand looked very small, easily lost in comparison to the size of the head. At this point, he seemed to shed the prejudice borne of the necklace that he wore. He seemed to just be another person, who for some reason felt a connection with what laid before him. The pupils in his eyes were sharply focused, and a small, awkward smile flickered at the very edge of his lips.