[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200129/2b530ba2297eea5b234b6eed58e3d1df.png[/img][/center] "It could have been mine..." The Goliath growled, watching as the Elf silently strolled to retrieve the arrow deeply embedded into the last of the dire rats. Vah'lux shook her head, but followed it up with a slight smile, while examining the large blade at the end of her weapon, dusting off the dirt and wiping the bit of blood and fur from it's cool surface. Those aware of the Goliath culture, would also know just how fond they are of competition, as most of their lifestyle revolves such things. Just about everything in their day-to-day comings and goings could be turned into some kind of a race, sparring match, or a myriad of other sporting events for no other reason than to satiate the adrenaline pumping through their veins. Still, for a mission that seemed more critical to survival and longevity of life, Vah'lux did not feel competition was necessarily the name of the long game. "Well done everyone." She nodded toward the others, adjusting her chest armor, and turning to glance out into the distance, wondering if rats were really the worst of it.