Mal gritted his teeth slowing his breath slightly as the shadows at the edge of his vision started to dissipate. He felt the man next to him lifting him back to a standing position, but his eyes were still focused on the back of the man as he walked away. His hand twitched at his side as he felt anger like magma melt through his veins. The next time the two of them met, Mal was going to put everything into destroying him. He could almost feel the red gem and dark chain in his pocket waiting for the next target, but Mal shook that thought away. The fate of his pendulum was for the worst of the worst.
 
 Simple death would be satisfactory for Patchy the Asshole.

 He patted at his bag. Assuring its position on his back acted as a security blanket for a second, briefly pacifying him as he glanced back at the blindfolded man - Ungis, with a toothy grin.
 [color=yellow]"Well... It's been a long day. And when you have three different types of magic fighting for dominance of your body, one of which being nearly sentient, it tends to put a bit of a strain on you,"[/color] Mal explained, [color=yellow]"Anyway. If we turn left here, I think we can walk back the way we came and into the little townstead..."[/color]
 
 He stopped to catch his breath. The spirit inside him was still reacting quite violently to the power of the relic in the man's possession. It wasn't aggression, however. Actually, now that he had the time to stop and feel it out, it actually felt like fear. At least the nicest person in the group he had the pleasure of talking to now had his hands on it. Hopefully he did a good job protecting it.

 With a final glance back in the direction of the red woman and her clunky asshole lackey (who now had a mark on his back, according to Mal), he turned to Ungis once more.
 
 [color=yellow]"Thanks a lot. I usually compensate better for my... endurance problems."[/color]