RaNdOM
Her hands - oh gods but her hands are grotesque, fingers too long and tipped with sharp, inky points, as if the flesh has been stretched and filed and stretched again. She reeks of the swamp, of old blood and rotting flesh, and the scream that rips out of her throat, while not as paralyzing as the one which rooted Loren to begin with, begs for violence.
The banshee's claws rake across Loren's chest just before Weaver arrives, but when she does - oh, my.
Swooping in a spectacular arc and catching the banshee across the back and around the waist, the hunter not only slices and skewers the creature, but yanks her out of Loren's path as well. Wailing now, the banshee attempts to find her footing, a scrabbling and mad thing, slashing at anything she can get close to.
The banshee rakes Loren across the chest with its claws!
Weaver manages to slice it and pull it out of Loren's path.
Loren is no longer paralysed.
The banshee's claws rake across Loren's chest just before Weaver arrives, but when she does - oh, my.
Swooping in a spectacular arc and catching the banshee across the back and around the waist, the hunter not only slices and skewers the creature, but yanks her out of Loren's path as well. Wailing now, the banshee attempts to find her footing, a scrabbling and mad thing, slashing at anything she can get close to.
The banshee rakes Loren across the chest with its claws!
Weaver manages to slice it and pull it out of Loren's path.
Loren is no longer paralysed.
EVENT
