[color=#1A1A3B][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]		  felt the give of the creature’s body and a trickle of disgust, satisfaction, and shock shot through his veins. His lips parted slightly and then as Deadeyes fell onto its back and he began to turn back towards it–intent on delivering a more grievous blow–the frenetic ringing of Pallid’s bell reached him. Flits of gold, like streaks of liquid metallic lightning, rushed about the edges of his awareness and a deep…profound sense of paranoia and discomfort welled from some unobserved part of his psyche. That paranoia, it wasn’t like fear, it was far more consuming than that–blotting out almost everything except the bloodlust that had been trying to gain hold since he’d seen the beastman. Idly, a part of his mind decided that he’d call them Gris–but he didn’t even have time to really register that fact before the nearly all-consuming paranoia was shattered…much like his ankle as Deadeye’s cane slammed into it. The impact forced his other leg to rise…barely causing the cane to miss, but in an instant Farren was toppling towards the ground. A shot of intense, crackling, piercing, cutting pain, a wash of fear…and then an injection of unbelievably intense adrenaline–all coupled with a sudden rage–slammed through his entire body.

Time seemed to slow as his brain caught up with what it had been unable to properly process moments before, for part of him was registering that in that instant he needed every bit of his awareness focused on one singular goal. Survival. Murder. His hands had tightened into two white-knuckled vices around the handles of his curved blades, but as adrenaline, survival, rage, and the bloodlust of a Hunter surged in him, somehow that grip relaxed subtly. His blood rushed, surging just as his emotions had, he felt spurts in his broken ankle, then a searing hot heat–both pleasant and painful at once. As he was falling–body half canted at a slight diagonal–Farren’s left fist and right leg shot down and connected with the ground as the cane continued its sweep on the other side of Farren’s right ankle.

The edges of his vision went a fierce, blinding gold color where normally they might dim…fade, redden, or blacken. He didn’t notice how strange that was; wasn’t likely to remember it later. Then, his body braced with two limbs–only fractions of a second having passed–Farren’s ankle was nearly healed, but his foot wasn’t in the right position. Mindless with a primal violent need for retaliation, Farren slammed his still fractured ankle down on the ground, bending his foot in a way that broke it again. Breath hissed from his bared teeth…and then he thrust himself forward with the power of both legs, lifting the knuckles of his left hand from the ground as he did so.

A second finally passed, his perception started to ‘speed up’, back to something more normal, but the tunnel vision of his rage and bloodlust didn’t fade at all. In an instant–the distance between him and the ash-fleshed beast that was Deadeyes already small–Farren was atop the creature. Both blades slammed down into its neck and then parted in either direction, draggin furrows into the ground beneath and severing its head from its body at the same time. However, almost as soon as it was severed, the red light flared faintly and a new head sprouted from the mishappen stump of its neck. Farren snarled then and pushed off the creature’s face.

As it likely tried to react, Farren’s ankle healed and he used his other foot to pivot mid-stride, angling towards the door. Then he dashed and though he distantly felt the strain in his muscles, he pushed forward into a short sprint, the dash having taken him out of Deadeye’s reach and a bit past the doorframe. He shifted to the right, the blade in his left hand switching grips as he flipped it into a more standard hold. Even without dashing, Farren was faster than a normal man…and quickly would come upon the villagers as they pummeled and struck their weapons at Victor. As he passed by them, he’d lash out with his blade, aiming to sever tendons in their forearms as he continued forth. Though his mind felt…strange and his vision was still somewhat tunneled by the alien golden light at its edges, Farren kept the villagers on his left in view as well as the gunmen ahead and of course Pallid himself.