[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/OBtAKia.png[/img][/center]

[b][u]Cuttersbury: Trail towards Drych Lake[/u][/b]

Quentin was blown away.

Ha ha, blown away. Oh man, he was killing himself. Oh, right, the fight!

The water mage was deeply impressed. It was not just any dude that could switch off with such skill from buffing allies to his primary skill set [i]and then[/i] switching again to his secondary talent. Quentin wondered what rank Marcus had attained already. A very high D or a low C, perhaps? He would have to ask later. Right now, there was a bigger problem - much bigger.

"Oh my gods, what is that smell?" Quentin asked aloud, his face crinkling at Trixie's bombardment of olfactory offense. He could not help but react, even knowing full well there was a Big Bro Varren eyeing all of them and striking a pose. This was getting weirder by the second. Quentin was no animal expert, but he was pretty darn certain that it was not natural for varrens to wear fashionable clothing or style their spikes into pompadours...or was it? To be fair, not being an animal expert was actually a pretty big deal when it came to this kind thing. Maybe the varrens had evolved to the point where fashion was an important part of their social behavior. Who knew?

Quentin trotted to Marcus's side. "You're real talented too, Marky Mark. I think we make a pretty good team."

He looked over the Big Bro Varren. Damn thing was a poser! It was practically taunting the Pride and Quentin did not like it one bit. This was all a little hard to swallow, like he was still having a nightmare and all that was needed now was the shark cyclone - no, the shark torn--

Quentin snapped his fingers when he caught sight of Trixie grinning with satisfaction. Had she been responsible for that? That clothespin on her nose made him wonder...

"Yo, Super Pixie! You got anything in your arsenal that's got water in it?"