another one bites the dust...
Kaiel took the steps three at a time, the balls of his feet barely hitting the edge before his was skipping to the next set, the Wind temple burning down around him as the main halls remained hidden under a smoke cloud still hundred of yards above him. There was screaming echoing around him, as the Brothers met their end in the fire - or at the hands of the bloodthristy. At this point, Kaiel wasn't sure which he would prefer....
There was crash a few dozen yards behind him, and a cackle that chilled his blood. He should keep running, but morbid curiosity halted him, and he turned to look.
Mori was hardly one he's call an ally on a good day, her mind as lost as the Moroi. She was returning to her feet now - correction, foot, her right left gone and replaced with her creeping ivy. Sir was still in battle - his energy enough to confuse the Moroi, it seemed, into believing him to be something to eat.
For a moment, she turn her attention away from Sir, and looked up at him - the gleam in her eyes even more terrifying than the neverdead. She's just like them.. He realised with growing horror, She doesn't eat with them, but she loves the death just as much.
The ivy launched at him, and from the distance, he could dodge it easily, but he never noticed the vines already laied out on the upper steps. As he backed away from the most immanent attack, they jumped from waiting to ensnare his legs, throwing off balance. He fell forward with a wet smack, face smashing against the uneven steps.
The fresh blood caused a shift, the Moroi all stopping at once to sniff the air. Kaiel glared at Mori, cursed her smile with his entirety as Sir returned to her side - both watching in glee as he was shaken a bit, the motion drawing in the Moroi like flies to a carcase. Becuase that was what he was going to be soon.
No.
He looked at the hungry faces, tense and guarded, excepting him to flee. They wanted a chase...
There was leftover to a carcase. He was just going to be a memory.
... He would of preferred fire.
