[center][h2]Krunk Fortress, Courtyard[/h2]
[sub]Here we go again[/sub][/center]

[color=ed1c24]"Zerraf."[/color]

The wind mage responded to the Lord's question, raising his left hand to further affirm his identity. He blinked heavily, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He danced along the edge of the soft flesh as everyone continued to talk. And kept talking. And said more words. And used more phrases. He wasn't really sure why everyone was still debating about this. They'd already killed Lord Funk, wasn't he the head guy? Why were they still fighting? Zerraf was pretty sure once the general was dead, the other army lost, it was in a movie he saw once. Though, the wind mage figured that wasn't really a fair assessment of battling. After all, the three of them weren't really higher rank than each other, so the rolling ball men would have to kill all of them to win.

Content with the fair bargain, Zerraf resolved to kill Gigantor. The sharp piece of shrieking metal on his belt unsheathed itself. The handle flipped into position against the palm of Zerraf's open and awaiting hand. With the back of the same, gloved hand, Zerraf lowered the brim of his blood red hat to cast a shadow over his eyes.

[color=ed1c24]"You should've just given up the pillow."[/color]

A zephyr began forming around the red mage. The wind turned into a perfect, rotating sphere around his body, stronger currents of wind appearing white amidst clear spaces between.