[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
[hr]
[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] Cae Mayl
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b]
[hr]

	Lein's body reacted before he could discern why Steffen, normally so deliberate in his movement, had cried out so suddenly. An instinct of attentiveness finely sharped against the whetstone of the expansive peregrination, Lein launched himself behind Steffen's charge, pivoting with the landing foot and leveling his bow at the death-throes of the monster. It only took the silver glint of a polearm launched in alarm for his comprehension to catch up with his movement.

	Had it been a living, fervent opponent, he would have rather congratulated his restless opponent. A warm laughter and a clap of the shoulder as he pulled his would-be killer by the scruff and perhaps drove him to a toast to the sheer tenacity. Maybe an invitation to work together next time, should circumstance permit, as any who would be stupid enough to keep conspiring to drive a stake through the Hundi's heart from beyond the point of apparent defeat would be just as stupid enough to drive a stake at the Hundi's foes.

	But instead, Lein felt a cold, malingering exasperation. There was no consciousness that tethered this slick mass of dying to the world, nor a warmth to be extended from or to anyone. Only an tattered instinct that ravenously defiled all life placed before it, an rancid intrusion of violence that no longer belonged. 

	Efficiency be damned. He did not care whether this thing was merely mimicking another bout of strength. The blasphemy had been fighting on stolen time for far too long. Lein's arrows would point at any joint that dared to expose itself to Lein's sights, pummeling it with contemptuous regard.