[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/xLx9hVc/image.png[/img]
[sub][url=https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1DiZM8YoCqF_ueKLGr70QdHnmpST_c8d0Vz7-VDctdRE/edit?usp=sharing]sheet[/url]
[color=ff0000]HP 2160/2160[/color] [color=00ff00]SP 2133/2370[/color] [color=0000ff]MP 60/160 (3060)[/color][/sub][/center][hr]
Leif growled at annoyance at his particularly stubborn catch, quickly realising that trying to lug her around would only be a waste of time. More than that, he saw that two of her allies were already closing in. One was some sort of musician with a... stringed axe as their instrument. Classic. The other seemed to be a more traditional mage, probably the larger threat of the two. No matter the case, it seemed that at this briefest moment, they were outnumbered. Leif clicked his tongue in annoyance to this,

"[color=f7941d]Keep the lady busy, Ames. Gonna get us some help![/color]"

At an instant, Leif's arms shifted back to their normal human shapes. Alongside that, Leif would release the Samurai from his net. As soon as the weight of both the enemy party's tank as well as their own spellblade both lifted themselves, Leif would accelerate once more, howling wildly into the air, as if calling out into the unknown. A series of howls from the wind would call back to the Shaman as thirteen ghostly wolves appeared seemingly from nowhere. Leif clapped his hands, ensuring that they possessed the speed of the winds themselves.

[Spirit Wolf x13, 100 AGI]

"[color=f7941d]Oi, Mags! Fight's starting without you! Come kick their asses before we do![/color]" Leif barked at the beefcake of a brawler, both figuratively and literally, directing his ethereal pack to his slower ally. They would run like the wind, running at speeds ten times that of a normal man. Alongside them came the invigorating energies of Leif's barked commands, carried along the air. Hopefully, Mags shlild be able to get to the fight sooner, her strength being put to good use as early on as possible.

"[color=f7941d]Raime, two backliners! One's got a hefty axe with with strings on it, other's throwing up gangsigns! I'll try and get you a clear shot![/color]"

Leif would turn to the casters with a hungry look in his eye. With his bonuses to speed afforded by his kilt alongside Arion's already monstrous engine, the Shaman would start to charge towards the one in the back prepping up some incantations. He had just one more round of enhanced strength from his ritual beads. Hopefully he would be able to make the most of it.

"[color=f7941d]Alright, Amulak! Blow some shit up on me, or whatever the fuck you do![/color]"