Offtrack Perhaps }{ Open

[*Kymmi*]

Drawing his sword, Rendylwin decided it was about time to get some practice in. He grinned, though he knew he was off course from trying to get to his village. Ah well. By now I'm sure Anykae has left....She planned to do so regardless....I'll just find someone who can do tracking magic or find a spell myself. He thought. Rendylwin knew he'd find her sometime, and restored his hope when he remembered Anykae's plans. He shook his head, trying to focus. Closing his eyes, he took his memories to remember a certain shadow spell. "Ah." He finally muttered, remembering the correct actions and thoughts. Being an elf, or at least for his type, words weren't usually necessary. Opening his eyes, he turned his wrist and thrust it forward.

In a moment, a dark shadow appeared before him. It was a dark, yet transparent shaped like his silhouette, just like a shadow. The shadow made a motion, then appeared to be holding a sword as well. Smiling in success, Rendylwin darted foward and sparred with his shadow. He twirled this way and that, graceful just as any elf, yet precise in all movements. He blocked and attacked. Rendylwin tried and tried landing hits, gradually picking up speed. The shadow did the same, yet wasn't exactly copying. The only one capable of improvement was Rendylwin. They seemed to cause their own wind in the grassy lush environment.

Rendylwin's eyebrows furrowed together, trying to concentrate on pushing himself to be better. Finally, he struck the shadows hip. The shadow jumped back and it's head seemed to look where there should be a wound. The bit of shadow that was gone, reappeared in seconds and the shadow was ready for another round. Rendylwin smirked. He could put the shadow away whenever he was satisfied.

[Chaz Algo]

Wading amidst the tall grasses of the field came a sort of abomination. Lurking sloppily, for the nearly neon blue of the creature made it nigh impossible to hide though the predators who met it's path on the trail of the scented blood sound found themselves prey. The distorted remains of a wolf hung heavily in the grasp of this biped, which watched wide 'eyed' at the display of a man and his shadow who was hard to spin down in the sights it upheld. Entirely of blood it seemed to be made, blue blood that 'rotted' away with each moment of time. Drips, faltering from it's dripping wet being.

Mangled as it was, the fur of the wolf was still good to some extent although soaked in the magical residue of this creature which dug sharpened digits into the muscle layers at the throat and shoulders of the quadraped. Blood from within the beast was soaked up, giving an odd purple hue along veiny trails up indescript though lanky arms. With a cant of the head, and a few drawn in steps closer the oddity let off a light, oddly merry chortle that sounded off with gurgling noises to be expected of such an aqueous being. The strangest feature of this oblong man-shaped 'monter' was the head was actually infused with the chest. Lowering the kill, arms shortened and seemed to become more akin to mandibles in grasp.

Extending up from the topmost portion of the 'shoulders' came the full arms once more, though a bit shorter. They clapped, a wet squishy sort of clapping like a person beating two socks full of jelly between them with the distinct pop of hands in accompaniment. Slightly maniac in it's enthusiasm for the shadow-shedding combat this horror bounced slightly causing the wolven corpse to jerk. Arms soaked back into full length, and carefully so tossed the body of the wolf out of the brush in a sort of offering to the man in relative peace.

The purple had worn off with the slightly maddening joy, having an odd stimulation on the mind akin to a lunatic's yowl. Coaxing one to join in with the 'fun', before long however it would produce less hysteric sounds. Gloomy, bawling would ensuthe on a lower pitch if the melee ended abruptly due to it's presence and it would skitter along to the trunk of a tree, attempting to grasp it. Pursuit of a threatening fashion, and the failed attempt to climb the tree would eat at the bark some mottling the wood very weirdly. Overly excited or depressed, the bipolarity of this creature was nearly as distinct as it's odd interest in a sentient life form. In either regard, the left arm would lash out in a pseudopod to catch a wood grouse and sap the blood from it to soothe it's '' the excitement caused. Excitement showed obviously, as more of the bloodied body would drain off at a slightly dramatic pace. Normally each drip was akin to a sand dial counting off time, exertion shortened the span for this Horror who's trail had long soaked away mysteriously.