[i]The Magna Pater fucking ditched that party. Exit stage left. Gone like the breaking wind. Made like a hockey player and got the puck outa there.

It was entirely capable of fighting off a small army of opponents, but it vehemently disliked being out in the open with more than one enemy. A straight up confrontation went against all of its instincts. It bolted away from the ice and speared through the treeline, sinking into the inky blackness that the moonlight couldn't reach. That something so big could move so swiftly, it was outrageous. As if a black mamba had grown to gigantic proportions and yet hadn't lost any speed due to the added weight, a heavyweight that moved like a flyweight, a near violation of the square/cube law. It knew by now that the ranger could see it, but the swordsman couldn't. That made the primary target obvious. All predators went after the stragglers in a herd. The ones that were less capable, less wary. It would snake up a tree several meters behind James, coiling into the branches with nary a sound. [/i]