[i]On one of his rare trips down the mountain from his Church, Fenrir walked the edge of the clearing. He'd originally headed out to gather some supplies to make improvements, but had stopped when he saw the woman launch the pen.
His eyes wandered to the tree, observing the damage that she'd inflicted. At the sight, he felt a sudden bloodlust spring up within himself, a desire to test himself against this new warrior. Fighting hard, he suppressed the desire, but decided to watch still.
White flecks of fire began to float off of his hands, yet he did not look to it at all, seemingly unaffected by the heat which began to emanate from him.[/i]
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