"Damn it." Moving back again, some 30 feet away from Demetri, the elven man set the bow back to the hook of his backpack, dropping the bag behind him for a moment to draw out the rapier of his. It was said sometimes that the thin blade was awkward and not meant for war but fancy dancing rituals trying to look deadly. In the hands of a man who knew how to wield one though, it's slim looks could be forgotten for just how precise and dangerous it could become.<br/><br/>He hoped that whatever came up from the burrowing then would give him a chance to help out his allies, and see if he could impale such a thing. No sense shooting good arrows at it if it might arrive next to anyone, he wasn't sure enough of his aim to shoot into melee, not without a bit of more practice at least, so he held his sword at ready, hoping to see the thing soon, and to flank it with someone. That was as good of a plan as he could improvise on the spot, but leave a rogue in a flanking position to take advantage of his sneaky attacks, and a foe would regret it quickly.