[color=708090]
	Marshall chuckled, as Amanita primped her achievements. “[color=a187be]Are you now,[/color]” he asks. “[color=a187be]At your age and tininess,[/color]” Marshall teased, both her and her hair with his left hand, “[color=a187be]Well, color me impressed, Amanita. A alchemist with medical talent is something impressive.[/color]” Marshall smirked, and then waved back to Mucu; acknowledging the mushroom man with a suspicious, albeit subtle, study of whatever he’d sensed from the creature. 

However, once Amanita asked if he was a Primal Beast, he frowned a bit. “[color=a187be]That's a very complex,[/color]” Marshall says. “[color=a187be]I suppose, you could assume such,[/color]” he says, as she worriedly sprayed him with disinfectant and such, “[color=a187be]For now, don't stress such a pretty head about it. I’ve not --[/color]” Marshall’s attention snapped to the shriek, as did Amanita's, and he saw the woman running... and nothing more.

[center][color=a187be][i][b][u]Impossible.[/u][/b][/i][/color][/center]
How could he have live so long, so damn long, and yet, the impossibly could still stun him near to inaction? It had to be impossible, and yet, he knew that face, that scar -- '[color=a187be][i]No! It’s been 1,904 years![/i][/color]’ Marshall couldn't move, and then, suddenly, he was. He’d just enough blood to sweep a thin beam through the swarm; anything else, he’d have to take from himself. “[color=a187be]Amaya![/color]” he shouted, swinging his right hand, projecting a high pressure beam of blood that could feasibly slice through the hornets. “[color=a187be]It can’t be... She can’t be.[/color]”

	Denial couldn’t stop him from racing forward, straight toward his past; foolishly into the path of the hornets that lucked out of being slice cleanly through, and beat Mucu into playing at meat-shield. He didn't even notice the impacts, as he looked back. “[color=a187be]Amaya![/color]” he gasped, before a hornet caught him in the neck. Poison circulated through him, and he redirected into the Touch of Virtue to be ejected. “[color=a187be]Insect! You won’t touch her![/color]” he snarled, grabbing a stinger, and ripping it clean out of himself and the hornet. 

“[color=a187be]Mushroom Man, Doctor Child, get her out of here! I'll handle this...[/color]” Marshall says, as the Touch of Virtue ceased being a jet-black, elegant evening gown in design, and became a bulky, armored slab of metal. “[color=a187be]I won’t lose you again, Amaya,[/color]” he swears, as the Touch of Virtue encapsulated his shoulder, “[color=a187be]Never again.[/color]”
[/color]
[hr]
[@The Irish Tree]