There's no tower of fire this time. He just ignites and the air fills with the roar of a beast imprisoned. He's still stuck, his mission still awaits, there's nothing that he can do
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Mary Anne's been out at the shooting range tonight, working out some of her nervous energy by forcing herself to focus. She's headed back inside when the flaming motorcycle catches her eye.
She drops the overlarge briefcase she was carrying (sniper rifle's no good here) and rests one hand easily on the gun tucked into the back of her jeans. For the moment, she's content to just watch and see what the skeleton-on-fire will do. But it never hurts to be prepared.
"TOO MANY MORTALS FOCUS ON THE CORPREAL FORM THAT I TAKE.." The Rider says, "I THINK PERHAPS, YOU UNDERSTAND THAT IT IS NOT WHAT I LOOK LIKE, BUT WHAT I AM THAT IS TO BE FEARED. "
Anger? Definitely something Conan understands. But this? This is magic. He doesn't understand that at all. So he's watching the demon with its flaming skull, leaning on his sword.
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She drops the overlarge briefcase she was carrying (sniper rifle's no good here) and rests one hand easily on the gun tucked into the back of her jeans. For the moment, she's content to just watch and see what the skeleton-on-fire will do. But it never hurts to be prepared.
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Over hill and over dale it passes until it stops short around the lake's edge.
The skeleton turns.
And hell itself is reflected back in it's sockets.
No noise. Not yet. Just a spark and the fire rises.
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But she's too (brave) stubborn to do either.
She looks back with too-blue eyes and her jaw set.
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IS THAT...puzzlement?
"YOU DO NOT RUN."
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The hell cycle surges ahead and stops several feet away from the man with the sword.
The skeleton staring.
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Might be scary. Might not.
As it is, it's a big skeleton. On fire.
"WHAT ARE YOU?"
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