Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-7838080-20131225042819/@comment-11588669-20131226054159

He sighed, before taking one of her spears, and clearing a patch of the forest. Making sure she could see, he carefully wrote out 'My name is Ambrose. And sorry about the kill steal, but I'd rather not drop on an Ursa. Like my limbs attatched, if you don't mind. Oh, and I don't really care about the scar.' He flashed a wry grin her way, before standing up, and returning the spike to it's owner. He pulled out his rifle, and frowned when he looked at the trees. Too compacted, so he couldn't pick out targets. Sighing silently, he spun Final Echo, and the parts moved and shifted until he held a gold and black double tipped spear.

He gestured for her to follow him, and he began a light jog through the forest. And began thinking on his partner, and her weapons and personality. She seemed shy, but her weapon choice wasn't. Odd. He continued to ponder her, and almost missed a beowolf lunging for his head. His eyes widened, and he ended up on his back, the shaft of his spear in between the things jaws as he used his foot to keep it off of him.

He really hoped she'd help. Both of his arms were focused on keeping this thing from ripping his throat out.