<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/8sMViis.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Masque (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=286197.msg14083251#msg14083251)<br/><strong>Aura:</strong>Gray<br/><strong>Time/Date:</strong>Morning, Day One.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Clearing<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>None, Open<strong>Mention:</strong>Headmaster Vulpine<br/><hr/><br/>The Headmaster gave his speech; gave his warnings. Masque's attitude was as cold as the porcelain mask he wore; while the Headmaster went onwards, he was checking his six-shooter, making sure it was fully loaded (Ice cartridges for the time being), making sure it was safely strapped into its holster for his descent; feeling the small bandolier of cartridge rounds around his waist, counting the precise number of extra shots he had, and doing a mental inventory of what type of cartridges they were.<br/><br/>Maybe some people left. Some definitely stayed, but he didn't mind them that much.  He made sure the straps of his leather garb were buckled firmly and in place; his mask was in place. He waited for what felt like forever, before, one by one, they were launched.<br/><br/>Mid-air, he took in a deep breathe, and breathed it out slowly. He had this; he knew what he needed to do. The trees grew closer, but because of his momentum, he couldn't just stop himself on a branch and climb down. Instead, he sort of 'hops' off of one branch, continues forward to another tree, a lower branch; changing his angle as he needed to ensure he landed as he needed. Near the end of his descent, he... perhaps missed it with his feet, but definitely grabbed a branch with his hands, swung himself forward, and tucked up into a ball. When he finally hit the ground, he rolled for a bit, before unfurling, and jumping right back up and onto his feet, none the worse for wear.<br/><br/>A sunny clearing is where he landed. His black stood out against the green of the aptly named Emerald Forest. And what did he see not more than a hundred feet in front of him? Beowulf. Probably not alone, and as he drew both of his weapons, he wondered to himself; would the noise attract more? Would its pack sense the death of a mate, and come seeking vengeance? Still mind, still hands. The creature charged him, and he squeezed off a shot at center mass; he thumbed the hammer of the gun back to the cocked position, as it was single-action.<br/><br/>It became encased in ice, fell over and howled its frustration and rage. Did they feel pain? All he sensed was anger. Either way, it was encase in ice, rendered mostly harmless at this point. He could shoot it in the head, and put it out of its misery... but that would be more noise, and one less shot he had later on. And he might need that bullet. On the wings of death, he advanced like a blur on the creature, and drove his dagger straight into its head; clean in and out.<br/><br/>It dissolved into shadow-stuff; whatever the hell they were made of. Left behind little more than a quickly melting chunk of ice. His head swiveled from side to side as he looked around; for other threats, and for other prospective students.