[color=#007FFF][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]		    had just risen and readied himself when Ophelia’s voice called out his name. His head whipped to her positions, eyes taking things in immediately. The way Arrayah was about to plunge her spear into the ground, the way she’d drawn the old blood beforehand. He called out to her a warning, [color=#007FFF][b]“Shade Spear!”[/b][/color]

Whether Ophelia managed to evade or not, Farren gritted his teeth at the sudden pivot Arrayh made, the length of her form round on Ophelia, looming as Arrayah swiftly began to pick up speed once more. [i]‘To her? The hell am I meant to do,’[/i] his mind supplied grimly, but he didn’t give the thought much of his time or attention, he just hefted his weapon and broke into an admittedly slow jog in her direction. Given the danger Arrayah posed–and the fact that the mad beast was certainly faster than Ophelia–his ally would certainly realize his own fatigue as he moved far less adroitly than he had been up until that point. The frenetic action of the battle against the maddened wielder of the Abyssal Blade had clearly begun to take its toll on him. He was conserving energy.

As he moved, Farren tried to consider what mad plan the witch might have to deal with their foe. Did she want him to try and stun her at the precise moment she tried to strike her down? Should he draw his pistols to make an attempt? Did she need something he had?

[color=#007FFF][b]“Plan?!”[/b][/color] he cried out, voice mostly repaired, but sounding heavier, labored, as it cut through the noise of Arrayah’s rapid approach. He hoped she’d reply quickly enough to give him time to adjust and then act.