[One or two crows swoop down again as they recognize the weapons are lowered, disappearing in a cloud of ashy smoke before they make contact. The crows on the ground dissipate as well, filling the air with a harsh, thick smog that chokes for a moment before fading away swiftly, as if it was never there at all.
Childs looks at his shoulder. Carefully, he rolls it.]
Not bad.
[The thick, insulating layer of his coat protected him, it seems- there's a thick slash through the material, and his shirt underneath it is cut, but the wound itself isn't deep. Blood seeps into the fabric, but he'll worry about that later.]
no subject
Childs looks at his shoulder. Carefully, he rolls it.]
Not bad.
[The thick, insulating layer of his coat protected him, it seems- there's a thick slash through the material, and his shirt underneath it is cut, but the wound itself isn't deep. Blood seeps into the fabric, but he'll worry about that later.]
Sooner we get outta here, the better.