[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/L1ZXR4zm.jpg?1[/img][/center]
[center][img][/img][h1][color=00FF7f]Leblanc Farris[/color][/h1]
[b][center][color=gray] [[ Location : Abandoned Settlement]] [/color][/center][/b][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/51fc61ac770a524e9468f174afa94d7f/tumblr_inline_n1xc79Kcic1rb3m8r.png[/img][/center]

Events unfolded swimmingly, any inexperience of their commander being outweighed by the deficiencies in the Roc's total absence of command. Leblanc could admit to enjoying the solitude of the hunt immensely, yet she knew full well the protection and the power of a pack. It came in many forms, whether it be a street gang or a flock of birds, though it was the strength of the order put upon those in the group that determined if it was a genuine merit or simply an illusion which, upon being dispelled, would shatter the prey with even greater force then if they had no connection whatsoever.

Fortune favored preparation, and a royal education atop Imperial training surpassed the instinct of lesser avian with ease this day. 

It rained scarlet upon Leblanc's bared flesh as her knife struck true, as for all the leathery skin and hard bone a monster of size might possess, the eye was a near universal weakness of the living beast, and an easy avenue towards the brain which she rent to mush with a jerk and twist of the wicked knife. In much the same vain as a domestic chicken the Roc would trash and buck in its death throes but she was already moving amidst the dancing shadows of Natsu's recent act of combustion. 

One silenced with a hole through it's now burst eye, and another screaming an obnoxious litany of agonized horror at a death by immolation. Leblanc worked her free hand over, rubbing wet fingers together as though treating the spilled life blood like a lotion as she approached the third Roc upon the ground. Having been stunned it flopped along the ground, no doubt finding it difficult to rise with the concussive force of a high speed collision to it's throat, but the seaweed haired woman had no intention of letting it rise. 

Like a viper striking in the blink of an eye, her main arm pulled back and rocketed forward, hurling her knife into the neck of the creature. It dug deep and remained, a glimmer of steel remaining between handle and feathered flesh, yet was certainly not enough to kill outright, though that was to be expected. Finding herself unexpectedly facing towards Gradon and Ires' position, she raised her bloody hand in a short wave before lifting a leg overhead and clutching it by the tip of her shoe, supporting herself on one leg as though a long bow drawn to it's fullest. 

Muscles tensed to the point her body seemed to tremble upon itself and her tongue darted across her lips, tasting the salt of concentration watering down her brow. The Roc was thrashing and moving about with the knife ever shifting, and Leblanc wanted to get this just right...

[center][color=00FF7F]"There."[/color][/center] 

In an instant she struck again, and the shattering of bone rang with no more squawks to follow, and Leblanc's knife now knew the kiss of soil as it over penetrated. 

[color=00FF7F]"I believe that should complete our subjugation of the indigenous bird life."[/color] Her words were smooth as she slowly withdrew her leg from what once constituted a neck, a slow, exaggerated affair of movement as she reconnoitered her muscles from tearing themselves apart, and settled upon eyeing the newly appointed leader's plainly. [color=00FF7F]"Could you remind me what's the Imperial Protocol on claiming trophies while on assignment?"[/color]