The closest thing she could compare to the monster was a scarecrow, if one of them became possessed a grew a few extra legs. The burlap like texture of its skin rasped against itself as it scuttled toward her. The hole that passed for its mouth opened wide to reveal a gaping void, with what might have been circles of gleaming grey teeth grinding along the interior of its mouth and down into its throat and she wondered if someone would feel it if their starseed went through that mess.
Rowan Tempesti (it still felt strange to think of herself in terms of that name), took a few steps back, bracing herself as she prepared to endure the storm. The friendly fire aspect of her abilities would supposedly go away once she stabilized her magic, but for now she didn’t have much of a choice but to grit her teeth and ride it out.
“Bitter Blast!”
As the wind died down and the lightning strikes ceased, she couldn’t help but feel yet another twinge of pity for the collapsing creature, wondering as usual if it was even remotely possible to find them an alternative food source. Maybe some manner of youma tranquilizer dart. Someone really should start the youma equivalent of animal control, though she couldn’t imagine that releasing them into the wild would end well.
The state of her hair reminded her that she needed to start bringing hair ties on her patrols. That small consideration was easier to focus on than the fact that she couldn’t use these abilities without draining herself.
Orangeish Sherbert
