[center][h2][color=0095FF][u][i][b]/Grant Rotem\[/b][/i][/u][/color][/h2]

[img]http://i66.tinypic.com/dyqee0.png[/img][/center]

Grant flinched. The only response that came from him as he watched the squirrel’s head and skull caved in at the moment of impact from his club. Just a flinch. He paid no heed to the remaining squirrel as it backed away, and he just continued to step to the body of the obviously dead squirrel. Each step was heavy. With effort. His heavy breaths shook, seeming to rattle his lungs as they did. He looked on at the dead squirrel with empty eyes. His club raised, unaware of anything else around him, not even the squirrel that squealed nearby. He raised his club, and...

[i]A feeling. Some... kind of feeling. An unexplainable feeling. As if.. He had no words for it. Or as if.. there just weren’t any words at all for it. Everything. Yet nothing. Flowing on and on without stop. No. Not just everything. Maybe even something beyond everything. Further. Further from him. Something he couldn’t dare to reach. Yet it reached him. A small piece. A small piece for him. A small piece... of that thing beyond everything. For him... for him. He reached out and grabbed it, knowing, that piece was made just for him. He felt that piece become one with who he was.[/i]

Even without him knowing... out of his back, a second chain sprung out, and it shot straight to the club above him, making contact with it. That heavy weight lightened up, and his legs had an easier time holding him up. He stood straighter than before, yet his hands still shook. He felt pain in his palms as his nails proceeded to dig their way deeper into them. He stared down at the still body of the squirrel, and brought the club down. An impact followed. Grant raised it once more, watching the blood almost stick to his earthen club. He brought it down again. Then again. And again. Again. Again. [i]Again. Again. Again. [b]Again. Again.[/b][/i] The earth receded more and more with each impact. Flattening the squirrel more and more against the ground. Pulverizing the son of a bitch until it became no more. He refused to stop. Grant didn’t flinch.