[The whole making people feel better thing? Totally not his forte.
He's beginning to think this stranger excels at creating distractions, because there's a sense of relief and very very vague gratitude as the dragon turns its attention away from him. It's bleeding even more now, thanks to those bullets. Dark-colored blood ekes from the wound, flowing down its hide, trickling through the grooves of its scales. Even as it moves with anger, it's obvious that it's favoring its injured flank, and Ornstein takes this opportunity to rush forward.
He skids to a halt in front of the dragon (a move some might call reckless, if they didn't know the knight well enough), swiping his spear up and at an angle, scraping along its snout. It's more annoyance than injury, but Ornstein knows that with enough time, it should become lethargic from blood loss alone. The drake growls at him, snapping its jaws and stopping, looking between Ornstein and Arthur as it decides which one it would like to tear apart first.
There's a surreal sort of... stare-down between the three. Ornstein looks unfazed, while in fact his entire body is coiled like a spring, ready to leap at the first sign of movement.]
How accurate are you with that... thing?
[It's a question directed at Arthur, his meaning being the gun. His voice remains low, not tearing his gaze away from the dragon.]
no subject
He's beginning to think this stranger excels at creating distractions, because there's a sense of relief and very very vague gratitude as the dragon turns its attention away from him. It's bleeding even more now, thanks to those bullets. Dark-colored blood ekes from the wound, flowing down its hide, trickling through the grooves of its scales. Even as it moves with anger, it's obvious that it's favoring its injured flank, and Ornstein takes this opportunity to rush forward.
He skids to a halt in front of the dragon (a move some might call reckless, if they didn't know the knight well enough), swiping his spear up and at an angle, scraping along its snout. It's more annoyance than injury, but Ornstein knows that with enough time, it should become lethargic from blood loss alone. The drake growls at him, snapping its jaws and stopping, looking between Ornstein and Arthur as it decides which one it would like to tear apart first.
There's a surreal sort of... stare-down between the three. Ornstein looks unfazed, while in fact his entire body is coiled like a spring, ready to leap at the first sign of movement.]
How accurate are you with that... thing?
[It's a question directed at Arthur, his meaning being the gun. His voice remains low, not tearing his gaze away from the dragon.]