Rolan had to consider what he had gotten himself into as he worked to reload his crossbow, practiced movements and muscle memory carrying where the metallic screeching of a wounded...[i]thing[/i] rattled through his very being. Like metal on stone, not the rhythmic sound of a whetstone on blade, but like a heavy hunk of metal dragged across cobblestone. The other knights, at least outwardly, showed no fear in their assault on the abomination, Dame Yael's slender blade driving hands back while Ser Gerard drove a large branch into its maw, forcing it upwards and exposing it to Ser Caulder's axe. Well, should have been exposed, but the clasping 'feet' of the Gannek, as the thing was so named, seemed intent on not making matters easy. More concerningly, another grasping 'foot' reaching down for Ser Caulder's head. No, that was not to be allowed, as Rolan shouldered his crossbow again, firing his shot at the leg going for the knight's head, aiming to pin it back against the tree or, at least, far away from anyone. Rather than immediately reload, he slung the crossbow in one smooth motion, hunting knife being drawn as he rushed forward, ignoring the senses telling him to keep as far from the thing as he could.

Rolan knew the rate of fire he could sustain would not be enough to drive back all the hands, and with the others committed as they were, Ser Caulder would be stuck simply trying to muscle past the Gannek's unnatural strength. Dashing forward low and fast, hunting knife in hand, he ducked forward in a lunge, aiming to cut deeply enough to cripple one of the legs keeping the heavy axe at bay. The sensation of hunger was, he was convinced, even worse this close to the thing, and rather than stay close and start putting his knife to work, he pushed off his leading leg after delivering a, hopefully, effective thrust to one of the legs of the Gannek, in an effort to create distance once more. Once gutted, and trapped Aessyr freed, they had to kill it. The thing didn't care much for his bolts, the shot to the eye that had caught if off guard proved that much, but plenty of stories talked about how fire and the like would melt such things away. He had plenty of fire, and even some more acidic compounds should fire itself not be enough.

Rolan didn't trust himself to speak or bark anything out, not that anything needed said, teeth grit tight as he began reloading anew, having put himself several paces behind the fellow knights once again. He worked from a kneeling position now, able to brace his crossbow better for a faster load. He would watch for opportunities, not willing to waste shots when one well placed one might keep his fellows from getting grabbed or worse. 

[@VitaVitaAR][@HereComesTheSnow]