Quote Originally Posted by Wolfbane View Post
Hilly Plains

Waterstrider can't help but watch his brother hit the ground, too shocked for words, but when the thrashing begins to slow, he lets out a howl of fury before squeezing his paws tighter, stronger than he has before. Abandoning the knife, Waterstrider begins clawing at the wound furiously, trying to make it large enough for him to put more of his body in. As enraged as he was, he still understood that the only safe place when this thing crashed would be to be inside it.

Down below, after his brother has stopped paying attention, Pathfinder's eyes snap open with a gasp of breath. Through "divine" intervention, his spirit was sent back to his mended body. Even so, the process had tired him. He can't help but roll over and go into a coughing fit, getting rid of stray blood that had pooled before his resurrection. With the fit forcing his eyes closed, he doesn't notice a remarkably different thing about him.

His right paw, was now completely white, claws and all.
As Waterstrider digs into the beast's body, he'll find out that it's surprisingly... empty. It seems that evolution or whatever other force that guided the latawiec's development made it as light as possible. The internal organs are strangely compressed in comparison to its size and once he gets past the thick hide, the insides of the creature are easy to dig through. The latawiec is steadily losing altitude now, but Waterstrider should be able to hide inside it as it crashes into the ground, the force of the fall finishing the job the blood loss started.

Quote Originally Posted by Moon_Called View Post
Swamp

Nothing seems to emerge. The swamp is as still and silent as it was before the fight with the fish. Barely visible vapours waft gently through the air like curtains. As Wenomir peers around himself, they begin to grow taller, thicker, more opaque. Soon the tall sheets of white and silver mist surrounds him, affording him only ten metres of visibility. All he can see is a short stretch of path and four or five skeletal trees looming up around him. The swamp seems to be growing cooler, too. Uncomfortably so. He may find himself shivering as his body tries to warm itself up.

As he grows colder, Wenomir will notice the tree directly in front of him growing more and more human in appearance. Maybe it's just his eyes playing tricks on him, but it appears to have a definite two definite arms stretched out above her, which lead into a torso made of beautiful curves that flows into a full skirt. The willow-like vines falling from the top is long, beautiful hair. The tree has a face, too. A face that is unmistakably familiar. It is a woman he knew long ago, and her name is Jadwiga.
Wenomir is somewhat resistant to extreme temperatures, as the demons of his homeworld use either fire or frigid ice, depending on their type. Still, he's definetly not comfortable.
He sighs inwardly when the tree takes on Jedwiga's shape. Why do monsters and villains keep taking her form? It's not like he has feelings for her anymore and in fact rather resents her. He raises his sword and waits for the situation to develop futher.