[center][h3][color=ff8800]Asmund Gjanarsson[/color][/h3][/center]
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Ohh shit! This wasn't [i]actually[/i] happening to him right now, was it ? Asmund halfway panicked when he noticed that Vlad had passed out. The gifted quickly checked if his grip could be too firm for the witch. Vlad appeared rather sturdy, but someone who knew Asmund knew that difficulties controlling his strength were no new phenomenon to him. After all he had just lifted that tree out of the way without feeling much of an effort. Being able to shake hands with someone else required an amount of sensitivity that many people didn't judge him to have. Not that he could not understand that. Asmund checked Vlad's pulse.

[color=ff8800]"Here, you can have him if you promise me to do no harm. That won't teach him anything."[/color] He let the unconscious Vlad slide out of his arm into those of Laurel. What Asmund didn't tell her that he was somehow glad to get rid of the problem. Those red glowing scars, paired with the direction Vlad's eyes were pointing at and the position of his eyeballs in general, were a bit scary indeed.

[color=ff8800]"I'll tidy up this mess a bit and then go to the equine center. If you want to find me, look there first."[/color] He didn't judge his chances very high though. It would not be the first time he would be sitting on a horse, but the last time he had been a teenager not knowing that he was gifted. Since then, he had grown by more than three feet, gained an incredible lot of muscular bulk and got a bit of a gut. He certainly wasn't the most agile one around here and not the fastest either, but it was worth a try. He could remember very well that he had enjoyed riding in the past.

Asmund used the side area of his hammer as a shovel to fill up the small crater he had created with the very same tool. The tree was a different thing: If he moved it out of here he would likely cause more damage to the surrounding vegetation than by just letting it rest here, or the charred wood would start to desintegrate in his hands, leaving a trail of ash behind. He planned to get a saw and cut this thing into innocent pieces later, but for now, he headed out to the stables.

[color=ff8800]"Erm... anyone here ?"[/color] Asmund's lack of self-confidence was audible in his voice. At least the ceiling here was comfortably high. The Mjölnir-ish hammer and the other two items had disappeared from his girdle as mysteriously as they had entered this world. He cerintaly would not need any of them here.