[i][center][h1][color=f26522]A[/color] v a d d o n[/h1][/center][/i]

[color=f26522]"Same here for me, though given the nature of our target. . . it'll likely blend in with all of this greenery."[/color] Avaddon walked with Balder towards the head of the pack, finishing up the last few details of his own weapon maintenance. Rather than the battle gloves or tiger claws that many of his profession tended to go with, the Fabulian Monk wore only a set of hand-wraps. Tough ivory colored fabric clashed with the orange-red of his skin as it coiled around his hands and forearms, ending with a corded threat that hung down for his elbows. At the end of this cord sat the Aldite which he'd been given, casting a dull red glow as if it were a dying ember. Tightening his wraps with a single tug each, the large man gave a contented nod.

As the group came to a halt, Avaddon took a relaxed stance, arms raised high and fingers curved inward in a clawed fashion. The first few strikes struck at naught but air, distorting it as it passed through due to the heat being generated by the Aldite placed in their sockets. Mostly satisfied at seeing that his wraps were functioning properly, the Monk would strike once more. This time, with a target in mind.

The poor tree had no chance to defend itself as Avaddon's fingers tore into its bark, the acrid smell of burning wood flowing into the air as he left the strike to sit for a moment, then tearing the chunk of charred bark he'd created out, smiling in anticipation. Tossing the charred would back and forth in between his hands, he turned his attention out to the forest proper. With an almost nonchalant air, he tossed the charred lump out into the side forest, falling into a stance in tune to the soft rattle of his scales clattering against each other. 

This is what he loved more than anything else. . . the quiet before the storm, where everyone was on a razor's edge. He had nothing to say, nothing to proclaim, only a desire that was barely held back by his years of experience in the Fabul deserts. In situations like these, the one who acted first was the one who exposed the biggest opening.