Welcome to Gaia! ::

"You are a pain in my a**.."

Gehenna grunted out his words as he recovered from a sweeping blow to his shoulder, nearly rocked completely off of his feet. He stumbled back and out of range of the giant bear-like youma, though its reach was extended by ape-length arms attached to wide, clawed paws.

He kept his shoulder turned in against the creature and twisted the old, rusted crowbar in the opposite hand. He'd been lucky to find it propped against a dumpster with some old work boots, though he hadn't been able to close the distance without being beaten back. The beast roared at him, again, and he grimaced. He took a step closer, just enough to be within reach, then dodged as one paw swept out to whack him in the face. A second slower, and it might have succeeded in ripping his head clean off his shoulders.

The gamble had paid out - that one miss was enough. He dodged into the open side and wasted no time. One quick jab and he lodged the crowbar through the youma's gaping mouth and twisted. A strangled cry greeted him in surprise, then the creature froze just before it crumpled into a pile of swirling dust.

"Gross," the Squire coughed and swatted his hand at the air, leaving the crowbar where it was.

Gehenna felt the aura the moment he was no longer preoccupied with the youma, though for a long moment he let his gaze linger on the pile of drifting dust while he focused on the signature marring his senses. The energy he felt was different - undoubtedly chaos, but there was something off about it. There was only one chaos creature he knew that was off and he had never felt her energy, he had never had the chance to encounter her as Gehenna. Could it be her? The implications of that thought made his heart rate quicken.

He didn’t want to fight anymore, but knowing that she could be just within his grasp?

The Squire grit his teeth around a frustrated growl and stooped quickly to collect the crowbar he had abandoned. His fist tightened around it until the knuckles blanched to white and he dashed for the fire escape of a nearby building. He caught the lower rung and pulled himself up, scaling it with little thought for the way his feet beat down on the hatchwork metal or the clanging of his own armor as it made slick, grating noises along the ladders. Whoever it was, even if it was her, they already knew he was there. The element of surprise was a joke in the magical world.

The Squire reached the top of the building just in time to see a dark figure moving along the rooftop adjacent to the one he’d chosen. He’d hoped to gain a bird’s eye view for himself - it was only luck, perhaps bad luck, that he’d come level with his target. They were slipping away though, drifting back into the night and leaving with more information than he had gained for himself. That familiar sense of loss and failure began bubbling up through his gut and his teeth grit down again, drawing his face into a snarl.

“No,” he forced through his teeth, first softly, then louder, “No!”

Without a second thought, he reared back the crowbar and launched it, javelin style, through the air. Though it was quite a different situation than hunting in the deep forest, the idea was the same. It arced cleanly, carried farther by a Squire’s strength, but was dragged down a little by the curve of the handle. He didn’t wait to see if it landed before he was running across the rooftop, barreling for the gap between the buildings that separated him from this watcher.