"No matter what thy stature or position may be, it is always experience that reigns above it."
~Tasmiya Shaik
SOUTHERN REGIONS OF ARANDUIL
OUTSKIRTS OF EIZGÁR
IRKWOOD FOREST
Thursday
10:15 a.m
Isarcrius ripped his warcan claw free from the creature's chest. A thick, black substance stickily blemished his fur. His arm reverted to it's asharren flesh; however the creature's oozing blood blighted his skin. He clenched his fist, and opened it again a few times to exercise physical sensation in his arm. Despite the fact that it had been three weeks since he last acquired the form of his warcan beast, he could transform no more than an arm or leg. How much longer until he would recover?
