Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5494158-20160514220014/@comment-25389303-20160517160848

After hours of constant walking, Raiden was beginning to feel faint. He didn't have any water, and while the sun wasn't exactly scorching hot, it was warm enough to merit him taking off his smart jacket and flinging it over his shoulder. Flayyer had seemingly gotten bored and had returned to his suitcase, leaving him unnervingly alone as he wandered down the empty road, his usual purposeful strides slowly disintergrating into short stumbling steps as dehydration began to take its toll.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, though, Raiden heard a loud russling in the brush to his right. As he wearily turned, he was disheartened to see a large Beowulf lurch out of the greenery towards him, barely three metres away. Thankfully, it appeared to be alone, and the creature didn't get far before Raiden drew his one-shot pistol and blew it apart with a grapeshot slug to the torso.

Unfortunately for Raiden, however, the Grimm's body continued forward, its momentum causing the near-delirious Raiden to collapse under its weight. He winced in pain as he felt something sharp tear into his leg, and as the creature's corpse began to dissolve he just about managed to clamber to his feet. He only made it a few steps, however, before collapsing against the trunk of a nearby tree.

He looked down at his leg, letting out a deep sigh as he watched a worryingly large trickle of blood stream out of a wound on his right calf, staining his grey trousers a dark crimson. In his state of exhausion, his Aura must have been too weak to deflect even that feeble attack by the Beowulf. The sound of pistol must have echoed throughout the forest, though, and Raiden hoped it wasn't more Grimm who heard it.

"God...damn it all..." he muttered through gritted teeth, "...I hope someone finds me soon..." he finished, before closing his eyes.