[ For a mercy, Winter is quick on his feet. He darts to one side, only to have the spectator collide with the cliff face behind him. It kicks up a storm of debris, sending chunks of rocks flying. One glances off his forehead and he feels something warm begin to trickle down the side of his face. Somewhere, he thinks he hears his name, carried on a voice that he is quite unused to hearing in any manner of distress.
The dust is still settling as he casts around for Astarion. Godsdammit, where did he go? Heβs not hurt, is he? ]
Astarion?
[ Bad move, probably, hollering back. From the dust and the rubble quite suddenly emerges the spectator, looking beaten and bloodied and absolutely, terribly livid. Whatever it has left for eyes are set on Winter, and it lunges in his direction fast. ]
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The dust is still settling as he casts around for Astarion. Godsdammit, where did he go? Heβs not hurt, is he? ]
Astarion?
[ Bad move, probably, hollering back. From the dust and the rubble quite suddenly emerges the spectator, looking beaten and bloodied and absolutely, terribly livid. Whatever it has left for eyes are set on Winter, and it lunges in his direction fast. ]