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Yadressil's Forest
Dante
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Dante simply rolled his eyes at Artemeties' crass humor; not that anyone could tell with his eyes the way they were.
As another wolf paced toward him with a growl, Dante brandished his sword. The wolf snapped at him, but kept its distance from the blade. As the wolf began to circle him, Dante waited patiently for it to lunge again. He was not disappointed. The dire wolf's teeth flashed as it leapt toward him with a snarl, its red eyes burning, but the elf simply side-stepped the attack. As the wolf lunged past him, Dante sliced its side with his sword. The wolf stumbled with a yelp of pain, though there was no blood from the wound; only the hiss of steam and the scent of burning hair rose from its matted pelt. Angered, the wolf hurled itself at Dante, its jaws wide. Too late it realized that its foe no longer held a sword in his hand, but a bow, and it did not again feel the sting of his blade, but the sharp, sudden pain of an arrow sunk deep into its open mouth. Unfortunately for Dante, a simple arrow, while enough to kill the wolf, was not enough to stop its massive body from landing on top of him.
Dante fell to the ground heavily and gasped as the air was knocked out of him. He mentally cursed himself for his mistake. While he had been wise enough to keep his skills sharp through constant training, it had been far too long since he had fought against a living, breathing target.
Dante grunted as he strained to push the dead wolf off of himself.