Dynoz staggered from the building, blood splattered across his armor. A haggard look graced his face; both of his daggers were dripping with blood, his hands shaking a little as he slumped down on the stoop. 

Breathing slowly he plunged his daggers into the wood, lowering his head into his hands, quiet for a moment as the winds swished around him. Exhaling he scratched his ear, rubbing some blood away he stood up and pulled his daggers from the wood. Acid burned the wood with ease and the lightning scorched and fried the wood. 

Somewhere out there were two dragons, a prize worthy of any elf. Even better was the fact that he was not alone, oh no, the Demon Elf was in the town somewhere, and his very presence would stack the odds in favor of the elves. 

It was at that moment that Dynoz realized that the bellows of the behemoths had ended. A frown crossed his face as he turned and stared at a palisade, trying to see through it to no avail. Either the bear lay dead or Snarnorgul did…or perhaps both. 

Shaking his head, he bared his teeth at a gaggle of humans who were working their way towards an exit. The cowed and battered humans, defeat in their eyes as they scurried away like the rodents they are. 

With a low hiss, the elf leaped atop a low roof and managed to climb up higher. Crouching, he spotted the larger dragon, and then the smaller one flapping wings and racing off, presumably after the Demon Elf. Cocking his head, he listened for anything that would tell him where they went. Dropping down to the hard-packed streets, Dynoz took off at a good clip, easily covering the distance, zig-zagging to avoid the dead and the debris that littered the town. 

Having covered nearly 80% of the distance between where he was and where he spotted the little dragon he paused and dropped low, sniffing the air and tuning his ears he caught scent of her. A wolfish grin crossed his lips, exposing his unnaturally long canines as he adjusted his grip on his daggers.