[They're easily drawn to Abel as it zags overhead, moths to the flame, and this time it's Isaac who strikes first, like an angry god. Shots go wide, axes slicing air - the humans struggle to keep up, disoriented. Less hunters, now, so much as men in the wrong place at the wrong moment.
It's like old times, cutting bloody swathes through the enemy with Hector at his side -- and if there's anything of Hector he feels he can trust, it's his ability to hold his own. Isaac spares only a quick glance his way until the last man has fallen - an amateur sorcerer who can't outrun his dagger - and the world around them is still again. Sunlight is just slanting through a bank of clouds, trees stirring softly. Life goes on without missing a beat, just like it always does. And the cycle of blood for blood goes unbroken.
Huffing, Isaac shoves his heel down over the corpse and bends to jerk his red, dripping knife from its back, giving it a shake before sheathing it at his boot. He finds a cross glinting in the grass on the way back and sneers at its uselessness. Not the first time the Good Lord had failed the faithful - and far from the last, he muses.]
...'twas child's play.
[Sweat gleams at his forehead and the hollow of his throat, but he looks galvanized, hard from the rush of blood and magic and restless for a challenge.]
no subject
It's like old times, cutting bloody swathes through the enemy with Hector at his side -- and if there's anything of Hector he feels he can trust, it's his ability to hold his own. Isaac spares only a quick glance his way until the last man has fallen - an amateur sorcerer who can't outrun his dagger - and the world around them is still again. Sunlight is just slanting through a bank of clouds, trees stirring softly. Life goes on without missing a beat, just like it always does. And the cycle of blood for blood goes unbroken.
Huffing, Isaac shoves his heel down over the corpse and bends to jerk his red, dripping knife from its back, giving it a shake before sheathing it at his boot. He finds a cross glinting in the grass on the way back and sneers at its uselessness. Not the first time the Good Lord had failed the faithful - and far from the last, he muses.]
...'twas child's play.
[Sweat gleams at his forehead and the hollow of his throat, but he looks galvanized, hard from the rush of blood and magic and restless for a challenge.]