Awbri and insaney vs. nekoryuuha and Honor (Forest)

[Aex]

Some might argue that inanimate objects cannot have a relationship. If this is true, then what is this I see? Why does the wind whisper its eager pleas, calling for the trees? Why do the trees reach as it passes by, trying their best to embrace the wind that they so passionately desire? If these traits are not a secret romance that nature has created, then this forest might as well not exist.

But it does, and it stands tall, its mighty population of green trees soaring towards the skies without any inhibitions or limitations. The wind supports such trees, even when others would argue that it opposes them. I know the truth. The wind caresses the trees; hugs them. The trees give the wind a playground. The leaves play with the wind, keeping it entertained.

So much life fills such a place, and it stands as proof of how majestic nature can be. Stretching for miles and miles in every direction, the forest is a guardian. It guards the wind, and the wind in turn keeps it alive. For a forest of loneliness might as well wither and rot under a moonless sky. This forest, however, with the coming of warriors, would not need the wind’s presence to keep it company.

[nekoryuuha]

(OoC:The call of the forest is too great to resist. Me and Haineko shall start.)

A Tournament for the ages. Go west, to Forest of Eternal Wind and there you'll meet your partner. Haineko wasn't told much more then that. Of her partner she was told a brief description. He was a well built and handsome human with brown hair and eyes. All else would need to be found out in person in seemed. This was five days ago. Haineko had been waiting and otherwise enjoying the forest. During the day, it seemed like all the world was nothing but forest. Animals would go about their business in silence with the wind playing tricks with fallen leaves and the littlest creatures. At night, all the forest would seem to die in the stillness broken only by wind's soft melodies that almost seem to invoke sleep upon those touched by its songs. Yet come twilight, the spell dissolves away and life returns once more.

During the day, the wind would caress and dance about you like a curious child, while at night it would sing you to sleep like loving parent just to once more become a curious child the next day. To a Neko, this was a haven that was always searched for. The life force of the forest hummed in tune with a Neko's mind, giving calm and clear thought while its pulse made a Neko's race. The cycle of the forest matched her own and eased her soul. By the second day, the priestess robes she almost always wore was slung over a branch and held down by her tiny chain mail. Her tube top and shorts followed soon after.

It was early morning the sixth day. Haineko sat in a tree near her clothing looking over her body. The body of a 13 or 14 year old. It was her body that gave her the old nickname 'little priestess of flame'. "This body of hers that strong people could toss as easily as dead leaves in the wind. She wasn't very curvy or even remotely busty, but her light, almost completely unscarred skin would be considered beautiful in many of the places Haineko had been and her 14 year old body also betrayed her age of 130 years. Even with the nature and the way it had caught her, the tournament was never forgotten. "Have I been disqualified for not finding my partner? Has my partner been killed?" the ash-gray Neko-girl asked herself aloud while absently running a light gray nail back and forth across her upper leg.

In the distance, a flock of birds shattered from a sudden disturbance to south. Most of the forest suddenly freezes as something large can be heard coming through the trees toward the small clearing Haineko now sat clad in only her gray leather boots. To the north and northwest came similar disturbances. "It would seem both friend or foe has found this place. I should dress for the occasion." The priestess wasted no time in leaping into the tree her stuff was in and redressing back into her normal attire. I felt a bit weird to be back in clothing, but bare skin wasn't much protection against an attack. Moving to a lower branch in the easiest the see spot in the clearing, she sat and waited for the people to arrive, the wind playing one last time with her ash-gray hair.

[insaney]

The wind pressed against the vampire's face, grasping his hair gently, and softly pulling it along. The sounds of the forest filled his mind. Crickets sung their song merrily as they skipped leaps and bounds by the puddles' edge, the wind gasped and whistled it's way through the forest canopy, which was formed by thick, dense foliage, twisted and contorted, entangling each other, caging the light out. Thus, the forest floor was moist, and Rain's shoes sunk into it, leaving prints etched into the mud. Green moss lined the exposed roots of the giant trees. Rain absentmindedly stepped unto an exposed root, which was seemingly consumed by the green. His shoe slid slightly, but the vampyric nature in him kept the balance as he stepped down, looking back to see what had caused his leg to move without his knowing.

The sun was high, baring down on the forest canopy, which was shading the sweltering heat from the brush and playful forest animals on the floor. The wind picked up, and kicked small twigs along, while lifting fallen leaves and raising dust toward the heavens. Rain shielded his eyes slightly, and kept walking, his shoes crunching on the twigs and dried leaves, which were dominant, carpeting the muddy ground. The vampire trodded along, until the clearing was in view, the midday sun casting it's rays contentedly upon the opening, which was scarce in trees, but short grass was in abundance, seemingly well kept by nature's gentle magic that encased this living forest.

Rain parted some low branches, and stepped into the clearing, looking up at the trees that surrounded what would become an arena in the hours to come. As he stepped into this place, the wind died down, and stuttered. As if it were trying to keep the vampire back from entering this place, but realised that it was futile. Failing in its task, the wind stopped completely.

A sudden rustling to the left.

Rain looked at the source of the rustling, to see a flock of birds take off in a direction away from the clearing. As he looked around the clearing, he saw more and more animals escaping the area.

Signs of oncoming danger.

Another set of rustling. This time, it was closer, as the tree leaves fluttered playfully, coming down from above, falling before him and landing calmly at his feet. The vampire looked up at the branches in the tree. No animal or thing had left the foliage, and the wind had stopped. He searched the brancesh with his eyes, sensing something unusual within the canopy. He squinted, and spotted something.

Two ash coloured eyes were staring straight back at him.

[Silver]

Some things never die in a person, but love of the forest is not one of them. It is most definitely on that should have never died, but it did, and for that some people had become less that what they were at the beginning. A gentle rustle in the branches as the wind whispered through the overhanging boughs, or the faint crackling sound of a chipmunk as it enjoyed some kind of natural treat... the forest was alive, but hardly a soul in the universe seemed to notice anymore, not for a long enough time to make it seem too long ago. Tingling sensations as the clean, pure, and almost entirely new and unpolluted air reaches the nostrils keys an automated response in one, if not all, beings, and that is the predator. A predator can sense peace, and the need to disturb it. That, in itself, is a danger, but the appeal of peaceful scent also weakens the prey, lulling them into security. Today was a day for the predators, not the prey.

The rattle of steel mesh and the neigh's of a mount chorused loudly in the dense foliage as a lone human being tried in vain to coax his animal between the trees and bushes, the horse having sensed what the master could neither known nor guessed. Danger was within the trees, some kind of predator lurking beneath the green and waiting to carve a swath of red, but no horse can speak to an ordinary human being, no warning could be given, and Kichaa Mesoa's horse Evelynna was not an exception in any sense of the word. Giving up, the swordsman dismounted and patted the horse down in an effort to calm the stubborn filly down a bit; however, she was having none of that, and simply subsided into an uneasy stance, staring at something with her ears up, waiting for a sound.

"What is it," Kichaa muttered under his breath, trying to peek around the trees to see just what it was that had startled his girl so much. Then, he saw what she heard, smelled, and verily knew about the entire time he was trying to make her walk directly into it. There was a human in the path Kichaa'd been trying to take, and he wasn't moving. Something about him seemed wrong, like he didn't belong in the forest as he was. Something about him made the warrior, after a brief glance at his horse, draw the blade at his side and begin inching forward through the trees, crouching low to the ground and trying to remain as invisible as he could without just running away. Whatever that human was doing in the forest, alone and armed, he was looking at something. Kichaa followed his line of sight and looked up. There was a being in the trees, though the exact shape seemed to shapeshift through the distorting tree branches, and that being was in danger... from what, the swordsman couldn't tell, but the feeling lingered.

Stop, don't move, he told the creature mentally, hoping to all the gods he could think of that whoever was in that tree knew better than to fight immediately. The other being had caught Kichaa's sound. He looked. Their eyes didn't meet, but something told the prey that the hunter had found him, and the sudden urge to run tingled up the prey's spine. Almost unable to control himself, Kichaa did the only thing he could do without imploding. He stood up and walked forward, the sword in his hand ready, though he counted on the fact that this was a reasonable being.

[Gracie]

Of all the places in the world, it seemed as if the forest was the only place that could remain completely undiscovered. You could say it’s all one big jumbled mess that Mother Nature forgot to organize. But the forest is its own place, and it’s set up in its own way. It knows what it’s doing, and it has perfect order. The forest is one big being, life pulsing within it.

Which is why it was completely unnerving to ‘the forest’ to have a four foot man with icicles in his hair stomping along and crushing everything with his insanely and unnaturally large feet. The poor undiscovered bugs writhed and cringed under his feet as they were sent to a harsh and painful death. Poor, poor, bugs.

You could say that this little man’s feet were as tough as rocks. They were so hard that as he walked over thorns he’d not feel a thing. This probably had something to do with how he used to ride down mountains on the bare soles of his feet. Yes, his species was an odd one, but it was what they did and they were proud of it.

And his cheeks were rosy and wrinkled; little round glasses sat on his nose. But don’t let that one sentence distract you, for upon his face was a smile turned upside down.

“This is ridiculous. We’ve been walking for hours! When are we going to be there? My feet hurt and I can’t see a thing. My glasses are fogging up. Can you slow down? Where are we? What—”

Suddenly, a girl with beautiful brown hair came appearing out of the trees, or so it seemed to the little man because he had been talking, not seeing.

“Kusty! Would you shut up!?”

Like Kusty, her cheeks were rosy, but probably from anger, and her eyes were narrowed. She didn’t look the least bit amused. “I swear, Kusty, we’ve been traveling for an hour and no more. It won’t be much longer, can’t you just be patient? You’re whining every second! And its practically impossible for your feet to hurt, they’re like rock!”

Kusty stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at the girl thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize that I’d been talking so much. I’ll be quiet, Aisly, I really will!”

Aisly rolled her eyes sarcastically and playfully. “Okay, okay. Let’s get a move on, shall we?” And she disappeared back into the trees, Kusty following close behind her. She whistled softly to herself and twirled an object that was composed of two golden bars to form an x-shape. It whistled through the air, much like the pitch of Aisly herself, and created a nice little chorus for the two of them to enjoy.

“Aisly, hold on a minute,” Kusty interrupted, holding his finger up in the air. Aisly immediately stopped the ‘chorus’ and turned to look at Kusty.

“What is it?” she asked in curiosity.

Kusty emphasized that he was holding his finger in the air, motioning for her to be quiet. His ears were picking up an unnatural rustling in the leaves, as well as something that he was almost one hundred percent certain was a sword being pulled out of its sheath. “This way,” he whispered.

The little man began to creep along as quietly as a mouse, careful to not make a sound on the abundant supply of dead leaves on the forest floor. He carried on like this for over a minute with Aisly crouched down and following close behind him, as she grew more impatient by the second.

“There!” he shout-whispered, pointing towards a very thick spot in the trees. Aisly rolled her eyes, but Kusty persisted. He pointed towards one of the thinner spots and made her watch it—she saw movement. They looked at each other and nodded. Kusty crept to right behind the thin spot, looking back at Aisly, and waited for her ‘okay to go’ signal. She gave him thumbs up.

So, Kusty leapt out of the bush with a fierce battle cry tumbling out of his mouth and pummeled himself right into the face of the man with the sword, bringing him straight to the ground.

[Silver]

It replayed in Kichaa's head. Slow... so slow... everything happened so slowly in retrospect, as if seeing it as it had been could have prepared one for the next instance, but it was never so. Adrenaline and testosterone were the fuel of a melee fighter, something that had ever been Kichaa's mold in combat, and to depend on something else besides training and instinct was death. Sure, solid, cold death was exactly what it was... it had taken him long enough for him to remember that, mind, but he had learned it well. The small being latching itself onto his face hadn't given him time to react, really.

More like just attacking me actually, Kichaa thought sullenly as he batted the air in front of him and tried to get a hold on the small creature. In a bit of anger, he wondered at the fact that if he just punched it, he would probably hurt it quite badly, if not injure it outright. Something held him back though, and he found himself instead trying the pry it away with his left hand while his right searched in vain for his discarded longsword.

Success!

Gripping tightly onto the diminutive man's shirt, the larger, and physically stronger, warrior flung his arm away from his body, jerking it about as if shaking a rat so that whatever... it... was, it most certainly could not attack him again.

Suddenly free from the attack of his immediate opponent, Kichaa dodged out of reach and scanned the foliage underfoot for his sword. It was much easier with the benefit of sight than it had been when relying solely on the feeling of his palm and the general idea he'd gotten of just where it had fallen to the ground; therefore, the familiar weight and feel of his titanium alloy weapon was back within his grip before the small being that had attacked him even had time to react.

A faint voice within Kichaa screamed, at the top of its make-believe lungs, danger. Whirling, the swordsman searched for something, anything, that would provoke that kind of reaction. Certainly not the man that had hit him to the ground... though it was irritating that it had been so easy for it to take place... and certainly not whoever it was in the tree... though Kichaa took meticulous care not to think it, he knew just what it was that had his senses prickling like a bed of thorns. It was that kid, the one that looked like a werewolf or something.

It smelled strange. That was it, most likely. The smell of lingering death, as if he'd killed so many people that it left a lasting echo around the man. Something dangerous lurked around him, and it was probably tied to that barrier of death. This being, whoever it was, was either very dangerous in himself or there was something about his worth considering dangerous. For once, Mesoa had the urge to simply attack now and ask questions later.

Silent as the grave, unlike most warriors who choose to throw themselves into combat, the somewhat young swordsman launched himself at his foe and cleaved with his sword, swinging it over his shoulder in a fully body attack at whoever this person was. Justifying this attack was that little hovering voice that screamed danger, if that was a justification at all.

[insaney]

Thick rays of the sun bore down where the vampire was standing, making the clearing feel crowded, and stuffed. A slight whiff caught his sixth sense, he felt it through his nose, making him raise his gloved hand to his nostrils, unconciously, he wiped it softly, all the while, staring at the being in the tree.

Half breed...

The first option would be to run, as far and as fast as this 'vampire' could. But then,... then he sensed no others. So why would the devil send only one, and not even a full fledged demon? Running was now out of the question. Sending only one, means that this could match or even better his current abilities. The other option, would be to attack first, gain the advantage of the field while the field was still open. Angering a being of this amount of power was indeed questionable, but if it was sent from hell for a fight, it would be wrong to disappoint it, wouldn't it?

Rain smirked.

Time around him seemed to slow to an immediate halt. Sounds that caused the air to vibrate with their method of transportation had stopped, stranded in mid air. The clouds stopped, dead in their paths, as the sun no longer stuck it's head to peek around that unsuspecting leaf, and the leaves no longer twitched and turned in their little homes, the wind ceasing. Rain had executed the shinsoku, a speed unparalleled. Kicking it off at his full speed, the vampire ran up the tree, leaping off its trunk unto the half demon's branch. He stooped beside her, feeling the sixth sense concentrating upon her. He observed the ash-grey neko-demon swiftly before the world resumed. He appeared as a sudden blur to Haineko, who glimpsed at the ground where he was standing previously, to prove her eyes were not being fooled by illusionary trickery. Her eyes widened, and pupils shrunk, as a cat's eyes would. Rain grinned slightly and looked into the half breed's eyes.

"Hi!"

A blurry backhand had connected with her cheek, sending her flitting through the foliage, causing the branches to echo their own crackle as they broke and fell to the forest floor. Rain sat on the branch, one leg hanging off, searching the brush for the neko who he had just let fly through the canopy.

The noise of a ruckus below him had wafted up, drawing his attention to the smell of a battle. Looking down, Rain noticed a young man, in chain mail, about to lunge upon a small, white -more greyish- creature. Baring his sword over his shoulder, the man launched himself foward. The vampire was no longer in the tree, but at it's base, grasping Kichaa's ankle, pulling him backwards. He lifted the ankle in his hand up, making the swordsman fall face down into the dirt.

[nekoryuuha]

Such speed...Does he know Shunpou? No, only people trained in the temple should know that. Regardless, he can't be that fast all the time, The Neko priestess thought just before she was backhanded through the foliage. The man was strong and her light frame doesn't give much for gravity to work on as she more or less flew through the treetops on her unwanted flight. Her instincts forced her body to bend and turn to land in another tree several meters from her take-off stop and it was just her luck that the branch she landed on broke, dropping her roughly to the ground though still on her feet, well mostly anyway.

She looked back to the tree only to find it vacant, the only evidence of anything having been in it was a small hole in the foliage from her sudden departure. A solid thud alerted her to more possible threats and she quickly took to the trees, soon finding the man that backhanded her holding another by the ankle and a bit of worry caught hold of her. The strength of Rain wasn't the cause of her worry however. She had fought people with the strength to crator stone walls with a straight punch before this day. No, his power was not an issue. His sheer speed is what caused her instincts to scream at her to run. Speed that let him move at speeds rivaling the Shunpou technique of the Temples of Macha, a technique she had yet to learn. Speed that would turn her biggest strength to nothing and scatter her power like dust in the wind. Her being in the forest for so long only maginfied her instincts in its cry for her to leave now while he was distracted with Kichaa.

Wait. That human... Haineko looked closer at the human Rain held. Brown hair, well built, and she managed to see his eye color to be brown when he looked back to see what had grabbed his ankle and dropped him face first into the dirt. He indeed was handsome. It seemed her partner had stumbled upon her and Rain and soon another thing became apparent to her. As much as she hated to admit it, she'd been in this forest too long as both Rain's and Kichaa's rather handsome features were starting to spark some rather "interesting" thoughts she wouldn't normal have involving one or both of them with her and little clothing. I need to get a grip on myself. Curse who ever thought to place to handsome humans with me in a forest like this. Rain had let go of her partner's ankle and stepped back near her position. This was her chance to surprise him. The pain of the backhand was still present on her cheek and likely was bright red against her light skin. He hit her harder then he likely thought he did and she wished to return the pain. She wasn't strong enough to leave a hand print or such, but she had one thing over him, her claws. One of the trademarks of the Neko race.

She smiled as she slightly flexed the fingers on her right hand before unsheathing five inch long and very sharp claws. She couldn't alter her claws like a few other Nekos could and took advantage of, but her claws were sharp from a recent sharpening on a near-by tree and relative disuse. Meanwhile, Kichaa had stood up and was trying to keep both Rain and another thing out of the Neko's sight in his own. No matter. Soon he'd have help. With only a slight rustle of leaves she lept down from her branch, reaching her claws toward Rain's cheek. The small rustle was all the 'Vampire' needed as he seemed to blur backward away from Haineko's leap to stop near the trunk of the tree she was just in. She twisted to vault off the ground and land lightly on Kichaa's shoulder, her robes draped down his left side and hiding the top of his arm from view. He looked up to say something when he stopped after seeing her face and features. "My partner is a little cat-girl? Just great."

"Watch it. I'm 130 years old and likely five times your senior," she replied a bit distracted as she was looking at the bushes near the short furry thing he must of been trying to watch. There, movement once more. Soon it stops, but Haineko can just see someone watching through the bushes with eyes just the right color to match the surrounding leaves and disappear until they move. Removing her bow from her left shoulder, she reached back and pulled out an arrow and realized some of her arrows were missing. Most likely from when she was bandhanded through the treetops. with the arrow she intended to fire, she had 13 altogether. Not many, but hopefully enough. The moment she aimed for the bushes the furry creature stepped in the way. A guardian for the one in there. Meaning it's three against two. Well, more likely two-and-a-half against two, she thought and reaimed the arrow at the creature's head. Guess this tournament is going to be harder then first thought. With a final smile, she released the arrow.

[Gracie]

Oh, how silly these people are!

The cat girl who was perched on the swordsman’s shoulders grinned and released the arrow. But to a little man so quick, it was nothing to Kusty. He knew that Aisly was smart; he knew that soon as he had jumped in front of her that she had moved. He let the arrow wiggle through the air, and the split second before it connected with his forehead, he ducked. It went straight into the trunk of a tree right behind him. “Tee hee!”

As soon as Kusty had jumped in front of her, Aisly had scooted out of the way knowing it was her chance. She took a few steps to the side and backwards, and placed her palms against one another. Chanting a stream of words that seemed to flow as easily through the wind as a newly fallen petal, the wind began to swirl around her, and her hair rippled through the air.

Meanwhile, Kusty continued to distract the swordsman and the cat girl, and was not giving them an easy time. The little Barbegazi broke off the biggest icicle on his beard, hopped up and down, and threw it straight at the neko’s neck. But the neko was speedy—she quickly threw her neck to the side, but not quite quick enough. The razor-sharp tip of the icicle caught the shoulder of her robe with enough force to knock her off her companion’s shoulders. And, the instant after the neko had fallen (who had in fact landed on her feet, distracted) the swordsman took his sword and lunged at the little man. He thrust the tip of the blade into the dirt a centimeter from Kusty’s foot. Kusty giggled as he dodged it and went barreling into the swordsman’s stomach. He toppled over.

It was as if Rain teleported to the spot where he now was—kneeling on the ground, hands gripped tightly around the swordsman’s neck. …And Kusty giggled, “Well hello, sir, how do you do?”

[Silver]

Breathe... breathe... but he couldn't. It wouldn't come. It was cut off... the hands. Those hands, it was those hands. They were strangling him. He was being strangled. As swiftly as the realization came, it was gone. People need air to think. That's why when they get cut of from it they die. Kichaa was dying. It came to that? Just that fast... he'd come to that. Death... was that the end? It was for now. He'd die. That'd be over. It would end, and he'd be dead. Spots began dancing before his eyes, swaying and dipping with the beat of his pulse. That, he noticed, hadn't stopped. He couldn't breathe, but he had blood pounding through his skull like some kind of massive inner race.

Wasn't that good? He could feel that, and hear it, so he must still be alive. He felt his eyes bugging out, as if the squeezing hands were forcing them out of his skull, and that was good as well. There was pain. That, also, was good. It meant he was alive. If you're in pain, you're alive. If you're dead, your nerves can't tell your brain that your body is in pain. That's a bad thing, technically, but in this case a good one. Breathe..., he thought... he could think again. Then it was gone.

His hand let go of the blade. How it had remained in his grip didn't matter, because it wasn't there anymore, but somehow his body was doing what his mind couldn't. He felt himself reached for the dropped weapon again. It was so far away... so far... but he could get it. He got it. He felt the cold blade– was it the blade or his skin that was cold?-- bite into his skin. It hurt. More pain, that was good, he was still alive. He tried to lift it, and found that his arm could still manage that. It lifted... and it got closer to the vampire.

So... cold...

...breathe...

...closer still. Was it too late, even if he did get the vampire off, the airflow back, if he was still alive, could he still make the difference or would he die a different way moments later? It didn't matter. Life had stopped, time had stopped, and all that mattered now was the sword. There was something about the sword that could save him, but Kichaa couldn't remember what it was... the spots were distracting him... but they were gone. Where had the spots... oh... the black had taken over now. He was going to die. It was too late.

It ended. He could breathe. His eyes felt normal, and his lungs were accepting gulps of breath. Harsh, quickly, too fast, he began to breathe again. The pounding in his ears had receded. He had a headache. The sword wasn't in his hand anymore, but he couldn't remember why. It had been knocked away, over to the tree... he took a faltering step before realizing, to his chagrine, that he was still on the ground. The sword fell to close for comfort, landing nearby, but just out of reach, as he fumbled into a standing position. Then there was movement. Something small was going past.

Adrenaline kicked in, way to fast, and Kichaa's arm shot out to grab ahold of the small being. He gripped onto the little man. It was him! That was what it was. Victory! Euphoria set in slowly as he stood holding the struggling little man, and he found himself grinning at the sputtering creature before, without so much as a second thought, hefting the little man over his shoulder and into a small group of bushes. Though it was a small victory, he felt the pain of a blow take that victory and rip it into small shreds. The vampire, who had vanished mysteriously, had struck him in the side– hard.

A small crack, then a larger one, echoed through the woods as Kichaa broke the branch of one tree, then smashed heavily into another no more than a foot apart, his spine making an audible announcement of what it thought of the situation. Not again, Kichaa thought, ducking out of the way just in time to avoid a the vampire's fist– which, coincidentally splintered the tree more than Kichaa hitting it had. Then it was gone again.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Kichaa growled, reaching out to grab his sword. Perhaps he'd live a few more minutes with the cold titanium on hand with which to whack someone.

[nekoryuuha]

The Neko mearly watched as Kichaa got himself free soon after she landed. The furry creature had disappeared into the bushes while the 'Vampire' had begun fighting Kichaa. At this rate Rain would overtake him. While Rain continued his hit and vanish fighting, an idea came to her. There was one thing in her arsenal that would take the speed out of him. Just after Rain's next disappearance the little Neko jumped to Kichaa's shoulder and put her hands together with just the middle fingers extended. The hand sign for Geki. "And just where were you when I was being choked to death?" he asked indignately.

"About four feet that way," she replied as her rarely seen tail came from below her robes to point in a direction. "Behind you." She jumped to let him turn freely as Rain appeared behind the human. He turned and managed to repel the Shinsuko user for the moment. The priestess landed lightly on his shoulder. She managed to lock on to Rain's aura, barely. It would be enough for this to work. "I just wish I had learned a higher level Bakudou before this. Get ready, Human. You're going to have a chance to give this guy a bloody nose in a moment." Rain had stopped in front of the two smiling.

"Oh and how's that?" he asked in a normal, unworried tone.

"You'll see. I'll get you back for that slap earlier," She snarled back in response. "Disintegrate, Black Dog of Rodannini! Look upon yourself and burn! Tear away your own throat!" Rain wasted no time in moving forward in a blur toward the two. Kichaa stepped forward to block him as Haineko backflipped off his shoulder to land in a croutch behind them. More arrows fell out of her quiver, but she ignored that for the moment as Rain disappeared again. "Bakudou 9!" He was appearing infront of her and a blurry appendage was coming at her. It would be close. "GEKI!!!" His hand contacted her face just as the red glow formed around Rain. The backhand sent her up into a tree when she landed on a branch before hitting the trunk of the tree hard. Unfortunately for him, she managed to maintain the hand sign. The 'Vampire' was frozen where he backhanded her. "Now! Hit him!" she called from the tree. Her head throbbed and Rain was draining her due to his physical strength.

Kichaa wasted no time as he turned, stepped forward and unleashed a powerful straight-punch into Rain's left cheek. Surprisingly, Rain never moved. The only evidence he'd been punched was a fist print in his face. The red glow was wavering, it was too much for Haineko. As her hands stopped maintaining the Bakudou, Rain recoiled from the punch and was knocked back into a tree. Meanwhile, Haineko's head felt like a swordsmith was using it to forge swords. She sat in the tree holding her head for a moment when words of magic reached her ears. Softly, but definitely there. "Human! The person that the furry thing was protecting! It's a magic-user! Find them, quickly! They seem to be to your left."

[insaney]

He felt it.

The aura.

The red wavering aura circling the vampire. It halted almost everything, like a slow knife grating into his lungs, his breathing cut short. His heart slowed, he heard it in his ear, the pounding. Constant pounding. Even the sound that so playfully skipped through the air from source to ear, it seemed to stop, it became so soft. He felt, that even his blinking was severely cut short. His gold eyes flicked, and the vampire blinked, slowly, ever so slowly. Rain saw it coming. The curled fist, overflowing with menacing anger, tearing through the air, breaching the red waver, ending it's turbulent flight with a crash landing on the vampire's cheek.

No, Rain didn't move, not an inch. The world around him seem to shake instead, and yet, he felt his neck twist slightly, and something pressing into his cheek. He glimpsed, but there was nothing there. Kichaa's powerful punch had left it's mark on the vampire's cheek, it pressed in, as if the man's knuckles were still there. The red glow around him flickered, and he felt himself moving backwards, through the air. His cheek regained it's usual shape, as his back went against the trunk of a tree. He recoiled off of it, and saw the ground coming up to meet him. Rain put his hands out, and the dirt kissed his palms. A shot of pain went straight up his back; a 'friendly' souvenir from his spine's previous encounter with the tree.

The vampire stood up, gritting his teeth softly, as his gloved hand swept away the dust that had risen, and settled in his face. His sixth sense was fixed directly onto the nekodemon, like a sniper locked dead-on unto his target. She was sitting high, on a branch, holding her head.

Chanting another spell...?

But no, the chanting didn't come from that direction, it came from direction Rain's attacker was facing, and about to head off to. The vampire did not sense any other demon besides the neko, and it wasn't an angel. Was it a human? Or something else? Whether or not it was human, he would have to decide and see for himself later. For now, that sixth tingling sense was irritating him. Haineko was powerful, and yet, Rain doubted that she had unleashed her full power upon him. Another issue would be Kichaa, seemingly the demon's helper. The vampire tilted his head quickly and slightly.

Decisions, decisions...

Kichaa would feel himself floating slightly, -literally- swept off his feet. He saw his both feet move up into the air, and felt his head falling back. A black-gloved hand gripped his ankle tightly, while he was in midair, and the sword master found himself soaring in the air, flung towards the neko's direction.