Relaxed was not the word one would use to describe the man's demeanor as the gnome began her not so hasty backpedal.

The attentiveness in his ferine eyes and the vigor in which he carried himself eased as he made a slow, calculated approach. Yet, there persisted a distinct lack of trust visible in his motions; his powerful hands, bound in partial, worn gloves flexed their digits lightly and his footfall had again reduced to minimal sound, but it was the way in which he leaned slightly forward that indicated this more than anything. It was not a lunge on edge, but the readiness to move quickly if need be, and if his speed were anything close to his assumed strength, he would undoubtedly cover a gap in a heartbeat - a pounce with brutal force behind it.

As Tirarrian continued her reverse order of movement, "The Red" paused - a gap between him and the rest of those in the area having formed. Undoubtedly thought out the moment she began to give ground, the hide draped hunter took advantage of the turn of events without pause. It was then he stood more upright once more, just as he had initially, reducing his defensiveness to a more passive state; the same aura of wild menace he carried with him ebbing into nothingness as he no longer moved with immediate readiness.

It made more sense in its own context now...

The gnome had withdrawn from the unintentional posturing and not a single participant found themselves in the reach of one another; the safest of solutions for all present, given the company.

"The Red" issued the first of his response in a tempered, measured tone; "You, small one."

The faint spark of primal power in his gaze faded for a moment as he blinked, drawing to mind thoughts. For so long words were meaningless to the beast-among-men - nothing but hollow utterances made by mere mortal things - and for almost as long had it been since he had needed them.

"I neither have time for your mere games nor those of these others."

"The Red" shifted, turning about to acknowledge the injured about in the rooming with a demeaning gesture; it was as though he looked upon them with the same indifference a predator among abundant, cowering prey would. Ending once more with his attention upon the gnome, he shook his head firmly side to side but once, his sizable arms returning to his sides with a continued sense of ease.

"There is an evil among this earth here - this settlement." His rumbling voice continued, a slight snarl of disgust emphasizing the vileness of what it was that summoned him here. "One that offends me to the point of bloodlust."

Palms opened ever so slightly, "The Red" gestured faintly with head, shoulders and this motion toward the gnome.

"With or without you I will find it, but if you value the lives of these others - yourself - then you [i]will[/i]."

There existed a tempest of unbridled animal fury to his demeanor, one so clearly of supernatural origin, but at the same time so eloquently spoken to the point he appeared almost an authority on such a matter. It was mildly concerning no less that somehow, someway, something drew his ire from what seemed to be tremendous distance to this place; undoubtedly well traveled as his set inferred by its make and adornment, both in bronze inlaid scimitar and tremendous lioness sark. Whatever means accomplished this summons, felt innate... as though he had a knowing through some connection to these turn of events.

"Will you or will you not aid me?" 

"The Red" inquired, a tawny brow raised from beneath the maw of the elder huntress.

[@Dragoknighte][@The Fated Fallen][@IcePezz]