[color=a36209][h1]Bran Brass[/h1][/color]



[hr]

Bran nodded. [color=a36209]"Form up, tie it down!"[/color] Order the original, like a well oiled machine the seven broke apart and circled firing threads across to each other. Forming a net around over the beast as they circle it firing to each other catching the threads and tying them to the hilts of there swords. Keeping at it no matter how threads the beast cut the managed to tie off burying there swords deep in the ground extending the blades down further as to pin the creature close to the floor. 

[color=a36209]"We've got it held, finish it off!"[/color] Bran prime yelled, hoping the beast wouldn't start polishing off his clones, his aura was intact but if they started going he'd get weak once they reformed. Bran knew he could hold it however but he could hold it, that was something no one else could do right now.