Kaerel Fellwalker had marched out of the shuttle at the back of the orderly ranks. Being the last man to march out, he did not get nearly as good of a view of the Xenos that managed to slay one of the kill team's devastator-marines. This caused something inside the assault marine Sargent to, snap. Some deep and primal that was held deep within his heart kept carefully concealed though now left to run rampant in his shattered psyche. His eyes took on a visage akin to that of a Selachimorpha, his chapter's very sigil and perhaps the creature that they embodied most. Their once bluish hue took on a grey, eerie look, like that of an unfeeling predator in the midst of a hunt.
With a bellowed war cry that echoed out across the very forest and assailed the ears of all those around due to its sheer volume, Brother Fellwalker engaged the activation runes on his jump pack whilst running forth at speeds unknown to most humans. He sailed into the air on a tongue of sooty flame, his shouted rage constantly lashing out across the battlefield to berate the Xenos scum he loathed so much. “You dare assault the holy warriors of the Imperium?! You will be PURGED FOR YOUR SPITE, SCUM!”
In that split second as he hung in the air, time seemed to almost stop. The mixed scent of the sooty jump packs mixed with the raw primal rage that seemed to emanate from the assault marine, creating a feeling of pure undulating rage. Fellwalker was truly an angel of death.
In an instant, he slammed down next to the avian creatures, yet his murderous intents were focused on one being only, the alien that had slain the Son of Russ, and whom now must pay the bloody price. Hefting his chain sword, he swings at the creature with all his might and all his anger, coalescing into a half-screamed war cry akin to those seen more in days of yore.
The sword bit deep into the meat of the avian creature. The blow slices into the side of the monstrosity's beaked-head causing his eyes to pop from his skull and his brain to ooze down his beak like spoilt jelly. The sheer carnal sound was like that of a wet sponge being savagely ripped in half, with oozing brain matter and chunks of bone flying through the air, like droplets of water during rain.
With a bellowed war cry that echoed out across the very forest and assailed the ears of all those around due to its sheer volume, Brother Fellwalker engaged the activation runes on his jump pack whilst running forth at speeds unknown to most humans. He sailed into the air on a tongue of sooty flame, his shouted rage constantly lashing out across the battlefield to berate the Xenos scum he loathed so much. “You dare assault the holy warriors of the Imperium?! You will be PURGED FOR YOUR SPITE, SCUM!”
In that split second as he hung in the air, time seemed to almost stop. The mixed scent of the sooty jump packs mixed with the raw primal rage that seemed to emanate from the assault marine, creating a feeling of pure undulating rage. Fellwalker was truly an angel of death.
In an instant, he slammed down next to the avian creatures, yet his murderous intents were focused on one being only, the alien that had slain the Son of Russ, and whom now must pay the bloody price. Hefting his chain sword, he swings at the creature with all his might and all his anger, coalescing into a half-screamed war cry akin to those seen more in days of yore.
The sword bit deep into the meat of the avian creature. The blow slices into the side of the monstrosity's beaked-head causing his eyes to pop from his skull and his brain to ooze down his beak like spoilt jelly. The sheer carnal sound was like that of a wet sponge being savagely ripped in half, with oozing brain matter and chunks of bone flying through the air, like droplets of water during rain.
