...

He didn't expect to hurt Jaraka much, but seeing as he did no damage at all disappointed him.

	Hearing Lucas' worried cry, Mikhael's smile widened, exposing his teeth. It would strike some as uncharacteristic. In these few hours, he has shown more emotion than he has displayed his entire two years in the Order. He couldn't help it. He thought the warning was absurd. Only when it was too late did the big guy express sentiment to him. Their relationship was never beyond distant. Why were they acting like close friends now? Was this the bond created only at near-death? He has heard stories of how conflict was a catalyst for bonding. Maybe they could learn to respect each other after all of this. But unfortunately, there was no turning back at this point. If he did not satiate this monster here, there was no way to contain the bloodshed. Despite being in the face of a deadly foe, he wanted to laugh at it all. Exactly why did he rush out here? Did he just happen to feel bored and wanted to die? Could it be he actually began to care about these foolish hot-headed comrades? Or was it the thrill of the fight? His heart was pumping the more Jaraka proved stronger than he was. It burned and ached, writhing around in his stomach like an overdose of burning alcohol. 

But he had no time to think further about his emotions.

	Mikhael snapped back when the massive figure began charging, moving even further away from the squadron. He would use his nimbleness to keep fair distance from the giant, maintaining eyesight as he jumped backwards, his body moving in zig zig as though performing a graceful dance. He was drawing the battle further from the borders of Kale. There was nowhere safe to run for, but he wanted to give the others a chance. They could find fortification and numbers deeper within the walls.  It grew increasingly positive they were faced with a threat none of them were prepared for. From when he punched the being, he noticed the reaction was strange. It was as if something absorbed the attack, or redirected it somehow.

	He wouldn't run for long though. When the raging Rajaka would eventually catch him, he firmly prepared the pale sword at his side, readying it to strike. He would go for a surprise attack, ducking low and taking aim for the trunk-like legs. Maybe he could shrug blunt trauma well, but would he fare better against rending? 

	While he moved, Mikhael could feel the well of arcana flourishing deep inside of him, drawing upon his excitement and fear of the coming conflict. It was as if this essence was a living extension of his emotions, wanting to flood throughout his body to empower him, but he forced the dangerous powers down with a stern shake of his head.

He cannot let himself be lost to these emotions again.

...