A short time later, Rolan returned, but kept his distance away from the elf.
A certain level of distrust lingered in his amber eyes, but he dispelled the holding spell and waited.
Watching almost expectantly that the other would lash out again.
He winced, suddenly finding himself unable to move. It brought back very unpleasant memories, but he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let it consume him.
“Fuck you!”
He shouted after Rolan, struggling, trying to break free. Another wave of nausea and he nearly fainted, -
At the attack, Rolan cast Colour Spray and quickly side-stepped back, but not before activating the Hold spell.
Maybe, just maybe he wasn't wrong for his wariness of the elf even now?
"I will leave, but I think you need to have a little bit of a time out." Unbeknownst to »
“I said get away!”
He lashed out with his dagger, swiping it at Rolan. He would have felt bad, if he was anyone else. He never wanted to help the tieflings in the first place.
He kept his face turned away, though.
“Go!”
Now, that raised even more alarm bells and Rolan's tail flicked on high alert. Something was amiss . . .
"Is that anyway to talk to someone offering you sound advise?" Mentally he was already preparing a hold person spell, or a counter . . . Depending on what happened next.
He looked up and let out a low growl. A warning.
“Get away from me.”
He snapped out. He was starving, lack of blood, and it was making him sick. He couldn’t live off animals forever.
“Now.”
He curled in more on himself, starting to tremble
along the outskirts of the camp." His tone being more mater of fact, then commanding, but with Rolan everything came out sounding more arrogant than intended.
Gods, Rolan should just keep to his own business, but it'll be his hide if something happens to the others . . .
With the almost silent agility of a cat he approached the elf and then not so quietly cleared his throat.
"I would suggest if you're going to be sick, you do it »