[i]That had to hurt. [/i]Given the distance between them, Ghent couldn't tell how badly injured Elayra was. The sight of her hitting the ground made him cringe and fear for safety her all at once. Concrete wasn't a joke; he'd wiped out on a skateboard enough times. 
	 Despite his taunts, the shadowmire wasn't interested in Ghent, it was interested in finishing off Elayra.
	 "Don't you dare, Red!" Being the reckless teenager that he was, Ghent ran towards the shadow responsible. Elayra needed help, and he found himself feeling at least partially responsible for this chaos. They needed Drust. If Ghent hadn't mouthed off, Elayra would have had her guardian. With Drust's skill, the shadows would likely be dead. 
	Ghent couldn't balance his attention between the two monsters, and that proved a mistake. As soon as Elayra gave the warning, he turned sharply, only to be met with the sight of the shadowmire weaving towards him at an alarmingly fast rate. Dodging wasn't possible, fighting was. Acting on impulse alone, Ghent lashed out with the dagger, swinging the weapon across to hit the shadowmire as it lunged for him. If Ghent was to be mauled, he wanted to score a hit for his trouble.