[How could it hold him back, when it's exactly what he'd always sought out? (Are they his own thoughts, or the constant whispering in his ears? Does it matter, in the end?)
As it stands, Filbo seems relatively fine after that hit, and there's the shadow to contend with-- he focuses on the more immediate threat, then, gathering the shadow to himself. Filbo's strikes, and as it slaps into him he reaches out with his own to try to wrap around that shadow and stop it, restrain it while it's close.
'All must end,' the void hisses. 'Everything. Every life. Hunger as we do.'
Everything ends. This has to end; more tendrils of his shadow stretch up from the floor.]
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[How could it hold him back, when it's exactly what he'd always sought out? (Are they his own thoughts, or the constant whispering in his ears? Does it matter, in the end?)
As it stands, Filbo seems relatively fine after that hit, and there's the shadow to contend with-- he focuses on the more immediate threat, then, gathering the shadow to himself. Filbo's strikes, and as it slaps into him he reaches out with his own to try to wrap around that shadow and stop it, restrain it while it's close.
'All must end,' the void hisses. 'Everything. Every life. Hunger as we do.'
Everything ends. This has to end; more tendrils of his shadow stretch up from the floor.]