Dagnir1

From Reydala

He was thoroughly exhausted after the battle that had just taken place. In a deep sigh of exasperation, he collapsed onto his side and blacked out. He lay like this for some time, before the other members of the party arrived. The sound of footsteps, voices, and healing spells caused him to jolt awake. The feline growled and swayed his head, finally realizing who it was. Damn them all. Anger and adrenaline still pulsed through his vessels. None were even concerned. They just came up and did whatever. They must've known he was alive as Ted started healing, but there wasn't even a semblance of concern over his well-being. All that, and they didn't care at all. It was disgusting. His body lurched and changed, a faint aura surrounding his dirty body. Fur shrank into flesh and hair, bones popped as they rearranged, and he stood upright once again. Slowly, as if stiff and sore from a great beating, he bent down and picked up the sword of the deceased bird. It made a ringing sound as it slid into the scabbard, and Dagnir held it out to Dante. "Here."

Dante reached out and took the blade, glaring at it. "I was supposed to kill the demon. Not you, you flea bitten mutt. God DAMN IT!" Tucking the sword underneath his cloak, the swordsman crossed his arms and turned his back to the Druid. "This was a complete waste of time. I should just break the damn thing."

". . ." A long silenced filled the forest air. "Very well." There was a flash of a memory, a smear of red across his vision while he tried to suppress his anger. A village, burning. Thatched roofs were caught ablaze. It jumped again, a small mound and a pile of stones in a meadow. Quickly Dagnir turned and stared at the slashed tree. The one Ichi`Ban had cut through. Why did he purposely harm the forest they so zealously protected? Without a word as to what he was going to do, Dagnir murmured out the words to a spell. Seamlessly he walked up to a tree, and then into it. He was gone.