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He grunted when the Mark of Alithe stole magic from him. It was ravenous, starving, and his body was a feast of macabre energies. It drunk up his power like wine. A faint hint of darkness emanated from the sign- the sunlight shining on the farmgirl actually diminished somehow, grew dimmer. It was the opposite of a glow.

Shertul yanked his hand quickly away before it could devour all of his magic: all of him.

[color=DimGray]"Congratulations,"[/color] his sarcasm was clear and amiable, [color=DimGray]"you are [b]officially[/b] evil, according to our dear angels. However, you are still somewhat stifled. Held back, just a bit, like good old Shertul."[/color]. He gestured to himself with a cold chuckle.

[color=DimGray]"These forests are far from my homeland, friend. I can take you to the Monastery,"[/color] he explained to the farmgirl, [color=DimGray]"but do not expect a quick journey. I must find food many times a day. Furthermore, unless I carry you upon my back, we will be forced to move at your [b]humani [/b]pace,"[/color] that tone was almost disgusted, [color=DimGray]"and the Wastes are many, many kilometers fro-"[/color]

He stopped mid-word. The leaves were rustled, but not with the wind. Something much heavier than a squirrel was perched waiting, and Shertul knew the motion of a predator intimately- how often had he hunted animals in the very same way? The thought only reminded his stomach of how incredibly hungry he was growing.

[i]I will [b]not [/b]be hunted.[/i]

The Fleshspinner's head twisted away from Sophia, like an owl's going around, with the sound of bone cracking against meat in his throat. It was sickening. His body turned to match only slowly, with serpentine caution.

The sounds stopped dead. Still. Quiet. Deceitful. He didn't trust it.

[color=DimGray]"Speak, spy."[/color] He spoke in a rough voice. Weak. The runes, the hunger, and the Mark had taken, all together, far too much out of him. It showed. [color=DimGray]"You have nothing to hide from. I do not harm those who do not first harm me."[/color]

He waited. No reply came from the green, so he decided to shout one out. [color=DimGray]"[i][b]Speak now![/b][/i]"[/color]

Any normal creature, animal or not, would certainly have reacted to his scream. Either his unseen stalker didn't exist, or they weren't afraid.

His eyes grew wide, all three of them, as he realized who it must be. The Nephilim, of course! They would never leave will enough alone. Shertul was confident that he could at least hold the angel off long enough to save his savior, but he was not so sure of his own survival odds. Ordinarily, his concern would not even surface- what is a single Nephilim to an experienced Fleshspinner?- but today had not been ordinary. He felt exhausted and trapped.

His gaze darted urgently to the girl. [color=DimGray]"Marked of Alithe,"[/color] Shertul spoke rapidly [color=DimGray]"some coward has stalked us. This is your last opportunity to return to Wellborough. Take my hand now, or take your chances that the Nephilim will ever have mercy."[/color] His claw was outstretched to her.