As Wil approaches, he is able to see the creature more clearly, it’s form resolving into that of a lion, almost as big as he is.  It seemed to be pacing cautiously, trying to size him up.  Wil isn’t pleased by what he sees; at this point he doubts that his weapon will do much of anything…at least not in it’s current state.<br/><br/>Wil halts when he feels the floor change underneath him.  Squatting, he puts one hand on the floor and examines the dust that seems to cover it in a thin layer.  The presence of the dust, along with it’s amorphous form and the mist that seemed to accompany it, meant that he could only be looking at one thing.  He had battled such a creature once, many years ago, and it had been a formidable opponent, extremely intelligent and capable of sapping it’s enemies of strength and energy simply by touching them, as well as a host of other abilities and attacks.  Bereft of his usual gear as well as most of his natural abilities, Wil wasn’t sure if he could defeat such a creature in his current state.<br/><br/>Opening a cut along his right palm with his claws, Wil smeared blood over both sides of the spearhead.  It would increase it’s potency against incorporeal foes somewhat, but it was a temporary measure.  Letting blood pool on his hand, he extended it out towards the lion.  His gesture had a dual meaning: Wil was willing to talk and avoid conflict, but if the creature pushed him, he would defend himself.