"[i]OOF![/i]" Ghent hit the ground hard. The dagger made its mark, but the mark wasn't deep enough, and he knew it. The weight of the shadowmire made moving impossible. Given his circumstances, Ghent could only brace himself and try to prepare for the pain he was sure to come. 
	Thankfully, such preparations were no longer necessary. One slice of a katana later, the monster was dead. 
	This should have been a relief, but it wasn't. Being pinned underneath a corpse was far from ideal, and when Ghent saw that Drust was the one responsible for delivering the fatal blow to the shadowmire, he drew in a sharp, panicked breath. They hadn't exactly parted on good terms back at the Book Barn. 
	 Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Ghent made a frantic attempt to shove the bloodied shadowmire off in order to free himself. No luck. Blackie must have been snacking. 
	"H-hey man," Ghent mustered a nervous laugh. Drust was about ten times scarier from this angle, though his eyes seemed less consumed with the Curse than before. Now to his feet, Ghent swallowed hard and nodded his thanks for the assist. At least the madman's anger had been redirected for the time. "Long time no see."
	Ghent was glad to see Elayra on her feet too, though she seemed fatigued. [i]How long should she keep this up?[/i]
	 Knees weak from the fright of the situation, Ghent hung back as the two recovered their weaponry. After an awkward pause, he followed by example and decided to retrieve the dagger lent to him. 
	 With reluctance, Ghent braced his foot on the corpse's head and pulled on the hilt of the blade. The weapon came out easier than he anticipated, and he was thrown off balance. One stumble later, he steadied himself by correcting his footwork. Today just wasn't his day.
	Flustered, Ghent offered the weapon back to Elayra. "Aside from the fact that I was just attacked by a demonic panther on steroids...yeah, just peachy." Remarkably, he'd made it out unscathed. Drust proved to be a guardian after all.
	The same couldn't be said for both of them; Elayra had faced the stronger of the two. Ghent's eyes landed towards the tear in her dress, and he frowned in concern. "Did that thing get you?" The street lamp offered some light, but not enough for him to tell if the shadowmire had been successful in drawing blood.