Lykos let himself give a nasty chuckle as his scimitar hissed clear of its sheathe. "Smoke? No. Me?"<br/><br/>He took a deep breath, feeling the old urge to murder everything again, rising up like an old friend coming back for a visit. "YES."<br/><br/>He directed the shadow after the giant, who likely wouldn't be able to do anything to it before it drained it to death. He dashed after the cultists, outright sprinting toward them, trusting his senses other than sight to hunt them. If need be, he could always do... 'that,' though his armor would need repairs if he used it.