Frost quickly rose to a standing position. He spat out a dollop of blood and gripped his glaive firmly as he prepared to deal with the charging cyclops whose eyes had pretty been entirely engulfed by that blood red colour. It was in a complete state of madness.
The beast's massive stone club was raised up high by its still good arm and threatened to squash him like a bug.
Frost frowned and clenched his jaw as he kicked off against the ground, swiftly evading to the side of the easily telegraphed swing.
However once again the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a strong feeling of danger gripped his heart. This time the target wasn't the back of his head but his weight bearing right leg so he could see the attack coming as well as the attacker.
