[Leshy isn't thinking beyond the immediate, the present, the absolute now. Unlike him, really, he is always planning ahead, always setting up for a big move. He's not so far out in the future, like a certain other Scrybe, but survival often takes planning.
This time, it takes ferocity. He doesn't want to let her go for anything, presumes he won't have to. She's extinguished in blood and water. She'll drown and he'll mourn the loss of a fine challenger... if only for a moment. Perhaps, he'll take a picture of her body floating face first down the bloody river way. A memento-
Just that bit of pull from his focus, of seeing himself the winner too soon, lets her escape. His strength wanes with the passing of the short lived drug. Her last ditch effort to sink and then kick at him works. The flames cause him to take flight, rather than keep fighting. His grip releases and he ducks himself down into the water. Submerged only a moment to put out any fire caught to his leaves, he cannot see her in the foggy redness.
Popping back up, his puffs water out from his nose. Find her. Finish her off. Devour her if you must-
Distant shouts and the sound of men approaching. No, it's time to take flee. This is not to be won. He takes the long steps required to get out of the water, rushes to his backpack, and slings it over his unburnt shoulder. Adrenaline and the urge to live another day make him quick, despite any exhaustion from the fleeting power.
Leshy escapes out along the edge of the property, careful to follow his trail of traps. Any who dared follow would get caught in one of them, couldn't possibly dodge them all in a blind rush to catch him. He's too swift and too smart to be prey tonight. Even if he is half-cooked.]
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This time, it takes ferocity. He doesn't want to let her go for anything, presumes he won't have to. She's extinguished in blood and water. She'll drown and he'll mourn the loss of a fine challenger... if only for a moment. Perhaps, he'll take a picture of her body floating face first down the bloody river way. A memento-
Just that bit of pull from his focus, of seeing himself the winner too soon, lets her escape. His strength wanes with the passing of the short lived drug. Her last ditch effort to sink and then kick at him works. The flames cause him to take flight, rather than keep fighting. His grip releases and he ducks himself down into the water. Submerged only a moment to put out any fire caught to his leaves, he cannot see her in the foggy redness.
Popping back up, his puffs water out from his nose. Find her. Finish her off. Devour her if you must-
Distant shouts and the sound of men approaching. No, it's time to take flee. This is not to be won. He takes the long steps required to get out of the water, rushes to his backpack, and slings it over his unburnt shoulder. Adrenaline and the urge to live another day make him quick, despite any exhaustion from the fleeting power.
Leshy escapes out along the edge of the property, careful to follow his trail of traps. Any who dared follow would get caught in one of them, couldn't possibly dodge them all in a blind rush to catch him. He's too swift and too smart to be prey tonight. Even if he is half-cooked.]