[i]The monster hadn't encountered projectile explosives before. Thinking it was a normal arrow that had been fired, it would hold up its left wing for a casual block.[/i]

[b]BOOMSH![/b]

[i]The creature was send spiraling into the smoke, landing in a writhing heap. The membrane of its wing, normally sturdy enough to stop a rifle, had been stripped off by the fierce explosion. What's more, the arm was broken and severely lacerated, a limp length of shredded meat and bone.
It wasn't often that the Magna Pater was injured. Often it went centuries without bleeding. But when it did, a new set of instincts took over. Silhouetted against the burning trees, the creature threw back its head and
for the first time during the conflict, made a sound. A warbling, lunatic cackle that rose and dipped with maddening pitch before descending into what sounded like an inhuman sobbing so chilling, that a man would need to be as solid as stone to not feel his flesh crawling up his back. 

It went straight for James again. Dead for him and with a demeanor not like before. It had gone berserk from the pain, the pain that it felt ever so rarely. It healed by consuming blood, and now that it was hurt it would do anything to drink. It would be upon the swordsman in a second, body shearing through the smoke as it sought the prey. Even with one working arm, it was dangerous. More now than before, even.
[/i]