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

Maybe it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but Quentin was pretty certain that Moira had cut off the spike on the varren's head, and [i]that[/i] - not the coordinated attack of distraction and destruction that had tested the Pride's endurance and compatibility - was what defeated it. [i]That.[/i] Like, whoa. Was that for real? Still, the beast was gone. Excellent!

The water mage clambered down the trunk of the tree with unsteady limbs. He almost fell the last few feet. His hands were shaking. Woozily, he staggered onto the trail and toward the large hole through which the gaudy Big Bro Varren had escaped. He nearly stumbled on the way over and dropped his sunglasses. Quentin bent down to pick them up and wagged an admonitory finger at the hole in the ground.

"It looks like that varren..." he began, before donning his sunglasses, "...got cut down to size."

A momentary lapse of silence reigned before he pumped an exultant fist in the air and shouted, "YEAAAAAAH!" It was at that moment that the rest of his body cashed the cheque his spirit had written and he sagged to his knees in exhaustion. Through unseeing eyes, his mind barely registered how battered everyone looked, including Estelle's open wound. With a look and a thumbs-up in Marcus's direction, he said, "We're a pretty awesome combination, man."