Dimitri watched, not frozen in terror, but just unsure of how to react. He'd heard legends of heroes that were able to wield blades with skill that would make men watch in awe. Perhaps this was a situation like that. Whoever this person was clearly knew their sword play, like Achilles or Ajax. As Dimitri watched, there wasn't a whole lot that was clear to him in that moment. One thing that was clear to him though was that he did not wish to cross this man. Weaponless, and near powerless, there wasn't a whole lot Dimitri could do against this man. He regretted being so knowledgeably impaired with his powers in that moment.<br/><br/>Either way, the man sheathed his blade, and didn't appear to rearm himself when he'd seen Dimitri. Sure, that didn't mean all was well, but it did mean that he wasn't guaranteed knacks in his back and a free burial into the snow. In Dimitri's book, that was a pretty good win for the situation.<br/><br/>"You know your stuff." Dimitri noted. He cautiously stepped towards the ashes left behind from whatever it was attacking. His hands met with a small bit of the ashes, as the wind scattered them once they were significantly off the ground. "My name's Dimitri. I wasn't sure if you were going to make it passed that."