Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-7838080-20131225042819/@comment-11588669-20140727203227

Ambrose stood up on his feet, and looked around. They had slaughtered about half the pack...but it  seemed like more were coming. The mute took the time to look around, and make his assessment.

''Judging by the amount we have left, we'd be here for a solid half hour. My shoulder can't take that abuse, and it seems like Oria doesn't have the manageable reserves. We're in trouble...fuck, I have nothing for this. Beowolves aren't easy to scare off, and if I overstress my shoulder, I'll be of no use to anyone. ''

He ran over to Oria, spearing one that lept at her. Twisting, he brought a speartip down on another, shearing through it's upper torso. And with a small spin about his head, he caught a final Beowolf in the throat.

"We may have to retreat," He signed out to Oria. "Unless one of us has some sort of finisher."