[He's not anticipating that-- he shifts a half-step back as his shadow deforms and stretches, reaching up above them both, shaping itself into a weapon. The stage beneath his feet shakes, leaves him struggling for a few moments to find his balance on his still-healing leg as he peers through the dust.
Is he- it can't be that simple. They can't be let off with just one good hit from his own shadow, can they?
Filbo's shadow envelops him, and behind him, Rynlan's shadow stretches out as if in answer. It takes no particular form, an amorphous shape pulling itself up off the floor as the thread that still ties it to Rynlan distorts and wavers, before in one sudden motion that shape inverts itself in midair and yawns open.
It's a rift, of some sort. Pitch-dark, with tendrils of shadow extending from it, stretching, reaching, and as they do... whispers begin to emanate from it. Indistinct, at first. A cacophony of overlapping murmurs, quiet for now.
Rynlan takes a step forward, shadows reaching for his ankles, winding their way up his legs.]
...you won't end it that easily.
[A more distinct whisper forms, in the midst of the voices. 'There is no escape,' it murmurs. 'There is no resistance. I ongg za ywaq qvsakf.'
One ear flicks, swivels toward the sound as he exhales a slightly shaky breath.]
no subject
[He's not anticipating that-- he shifts a half-step back as his shadow deforms and stretches, reaching up above them both, shaping itself into a weapon. The stage beneath his feet shakes, leaves him struggling for a few moments to find his balance on his still-healing leg as he peers through the dust.
Is he- it can't be that simple. They can't be let off with just one good hit from his own shadow, can they?
Filbo's shadow envelops him, and behind him, Rynlan's shadow stretches out as if in answer. It takes no particular form, an amorphous shape pulling itself up off the floor as the thread that still ties it to Rynlan distorts and wavers, before in one sudden motion that shape inverts itself in midair and yawns open.
It's a rift, of some sort. Pitch-dark, with tendrils of shadow extending from it, stretching, reaching, and as they do... whispers begin to emanate from it. Indistinct, at first. A cacophony of overlapping murmurs, quiet for now.
Rynlan takes a step forward, shadows reaching for his ankles, winding their way up his legs.]
...you won't end it that easily.
[A more distinct whisper forms, in the midst of the voices. 'There is no escape,' it murmurs. 'There is no resistance. I ongg za ywaq qvsakf.'
One ear flicks, swivels toward the sound as he exhales a slightly shaky breath.]