04-30-2018, 07:26 PM
Unlike Morgan, he wasn't able to hone in on creatures using some form of sixth sense; he had a much simpler tactic of tracking presences. He could have smelled her from miles away, an ambling mass of ocean brine and crimson iron that made his nose wrinkle in disgust for her existence. His brain may have registered where she originated, yet neglected to identify who specifically. All he cared about was that she was here to start trouble. The Typhoon wasn't worth his time -- lousy, self-indulgent "pirates" who couldn't get their act together underneath an ignorant leader. Their excuse for a captain was intimidating for the first few seconds, but Beck was able to see through the facade easily once he realized how little he cared. While the poltergeist was distant towards his peers, he still thought of himself as an equal, and didn't order his clan into a fight without putting himself at risk as well. What he didn't understand was how Argus was still loyal to him. Clever was not the right word to describe her; she was a sheep in wolf's clothing, believing she was all-powerful only to realize she was just a puppet.
The instant the demonic entity caught wind of Argus' scent, Beck was already stalking towards the source, his limp quickening into a silenced sprint. Two others had already approached the enemy, but they were hesitating. Why were they just sitting there? Farsighted eyes could easily detect the white blemish amidst the green swamp -- he couldn't just straight-on tackle her like he had planned, she was too big, even with her obvious wounds. It was a impulsive decision when he faded into nothing but shadowy matter mid-leap over a cypress root, only to stretch and contort his apparition into a suitable opponent: a gangly stag stumbling from his jump with a clumsy skid. He rarely materialized as a deer; it required too much energy to maintain such a form, but he wanted her either dead or off their territory now. Ignoring his sloppy landing, the much-taller Beck didn't skip a beat, ducking his head to aim a lackluster rack of antlers straight at her flank, charging from the left in an attempt to blindside her while she was distracted with Fenrisulfr, Killian, and Morgan. The shapeshifting stag was primed to ram into the wolf with enough force to topple her over, yet Beck aimed to hook her up with his antlers -- it was weird saying that considering how used he was to pretending he was a cat -- and in a jerky movement, toss her up into the air in violent fashion. To his onlooking clanmates, the random stag that seemed to come from out of nowhere was still somewhat recognizable as their lovable commander, when keen eyes could spot the same ugly burn scarring his snout, the same dusting of freckles across disheveled pelt, the same shackled wrists and injuries his apparition bore, save for missing bandages, and the same lantern-like eyes burning with absolute hatred. The only difference was the shape he presented himself in. He would have glanced back at them to embarrassingly assure himself that they were unharmed, but he was preoccupied with Argus for the time being.
[member=218]ARGUS[/member]
[align=center]»――➤The instant the demonic entity caught wind of Argus' scent, Beck was already stalking towards the source, his limp quickening into a silenced sprint. Two others had already approached the enemy, but they were hesitating. Why were they just sitting there? Farsighted eyes could easily detect the white blemish amidst the green swamp -- he couldn't just straight-on tackle her like he had planned, she was too big, even with her obvious wounds. It was a impulsive decision when he faded into nothing but shadowy matter mid-leap over a cypress root, only to stretch and contort his apparition into a suitable opponent: a gangly stag stumbling from his jump with a clumsy skid. He rarely materialized as a deer; it required too much energy to maintain such a form, but he wanted her either dead or off their territory now. Ignoring his sloppy landing, the much-taller Beck didn't skip a beat, ducking his head to aim a lackluster rack of antlers straight at her flank, charging from the left in an attempt to blindside her while she was distracted with Fenrisulfr, Killian, and Morgan. The shapeshifting stag was primed to ram into the wolf with enough force to topple her over, yet Beck aimed to hook her up with his antlers -- it was weird saying that considering how used he was to pretending he was a cat -- and in a jerky movement, toss her up into the air in violent fashion. To his onlooking clanmates, the random stag that seemed to come from out of nowhere was still somewhat recognizable as their lovable commander, when keen eyes could spot the same ugly burn scarring his snout, the same dusting of freckles across disheveled pelt, the same shackled wrists and injuries his apparition bore, save for missing bandages, and the same lantern-like eyes burning with absolute hatred. The only difference was the shape he presented himself in. He would have glanced back at them to embarrassingly assure himself that they were unharmed, but he was preoccupied with Argus for the time being.
[member=218]ARGUS[/member]