About an hour ago.
Returning back to the strange man that was attacked in front of a store with the shop owner standing near.
The strike of those vines came too sudden and fierce to the point that the players nearby thought it would be a quick end for the man. But still, they couldn't help but ponder on the trifles of that shop owner standing close.
As well as the image of those two figures pierced through without trouble nor struggle by those terrible vines. How their blood would paint the ground and walls of the establishment a mixture of dark red and flesh. The pieces of twitching muscles clinging on the surface of clear windows while sliding in slow motion.
Perhaps those vines would miss?
