His power had a unique quirk, he'd found. After he committed to a teleport, he gained intimate knowledge of everything, down to the dust in the air, within his range. He assumed he was supposed to use this to fine-tune the position of his arrival, so that he only displaced the matter he intended to displace. The catch was, the second he'd arrived wherever he'd chosen, he'd immediately and entirely forget that knowledge, along with the thoughts that accompanied it while he had it, left in the dark once more.

He'd broken that limitation of his, somewhat. This is why when he decided to teleport to the location of his knife, and then suddenly found himself in an empty room, he knew that something had gone wrong. Not quite what, or that his knife had been taken, but he knew that he'd decided that he'd be at more of an advantage if he was in this room, instead of where he'd sent his knife, even if he'd forgotten that he'd made that decision.

[i]Alright, me.[/i] He looked around the room, nothing popped out to him. [i]What's here? Or what's there, perhaps? He could still pose a threat in that location. I suppose he's already shown a knack for pulling seemingly random powers out of his ass, there's nothing saying he won't have something that could catch me before i teleport out again, or, can i?[/i]

He was suddenly aware of his breathing, it was heavy, laborious. He was winded when he'd arrived, and only had a few minutes rest before tapping into his power once again. And it wasn't just a little. He'd been using it to the extent that he'd been before, not quite a mad, reckless retreat, but he was in the midst of a fight, and it was his weapon. He'd been using it too regularly, he wasn't properly pacing himself. [i]Is that why? Is this place safe, a place i can rest?[/i]

He didn't really have a choice, as he bent over, hands on his knees again, catching his breath and listening intently to the sounds around him.