Taran followed after Mack, making sure to keep a safe distance so the flames didn't accidentally consume the both of them. Once he was sure they wouldn't be followed, he left a considerable amount of the forest to burn, but stopped his fiery rampage so that they could make a reasonable getaway. He approached Mack at the river, and slowed down to a walking pace. He looked down at Mack, smiled, and said, in a very worn out voice, "That was something."<br/><br/>He seemed consumed by thought for a brief moment, took another step forward, and then keeled over. He hit the ground flat on his stomach, all four arms splayed out in various directions. His wings settled out on top of him, draping him in a big mess of black, leathery sinew.<br/><br/>-<br/><br/>Taran sat up with a rather audible gasp. He looked around his surroundings, and then at himself, and then again into the forest. He remembered reaching the river and seeing Mack, but that was really it. Shit, where was Mack? Had the tiny demon fled after he'd blacked out? He groaned as he forced himself into a full sitting position, feeling his side and his shoulder. The wounds hurt, but they ached more than they stung, which Taran supposed was a good sign. He stumbled to his feet and surveyed the surroundings again.<br/><br/>"Hello?" he called, apprehensive. He clawed his way through the growth that had been masking him, out into a clearing. He definitely wasn't in the same place as they were before.