"-I think I prefer Thrall," Cayde concluded, apparently having been wrestling with the argument in his head during the retreat. "Much less legs, even if they all rush at you at once and try to claw off your face." He might change his mind if they ever had to fight swarms of Thrall because they were gross, nasty bastards, but for now, what was following them was the obvious choice.
He fired again into the milling mass, which wasn't at all his style, but he couldn't unload an entire round when he hadn't much more than spare change in the long run. Navigating the dark tunnels at speed weren't as easy as picking their way along with previous caution. He'd forgotten about the slope and only managed not to faceplant into the ground by keeping his feet moving, a hand helping to propel him in the right, and most importantly, an upright direction.
Again he turned to squeeze off another shot, sending its echo down the tunnel as it was punctuate by the satisfying squelch of the bullet finding its mark. A familiar flare of light went dancing past his feet, and while Cayde was glad Tony was trying to lend a hand, he wasn't quite sure how effective the flare was going to be in favor of a grenade. And boy did he miss his grenades. Not that there was much time to really express such sentiment when a leggy creature was leaping at you.
He misjudged the distance, and perhaps its speed as his hand cannon was brought up too late. Next thing he knew, his back was hitting the dirt hard, and there were way too many appendages on him than he was comfortable with. His other hand wrapped around his knife, its blade nearly as long as his forearm, and he yanked it clean of its sheath and deliberately with the creature in its path.
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He fired again into the milling mass, which wasn't at all his style, but he couldn't unload an entire round when he hadn't much more than spare change in the long run. Navigating the dark tunnels at speed weren't as easy as picking their way along with previous caution. He'd forgotten about the slope and only managed not to faceplant into the ground by keeping his feet moving, a hand helping to propel him in the right, and most importantly, an upright direction.
Again he turned to squeeze off another shot, sending its echo down the tunnel as it was punctuate by the satisfying squelch of the bullet finding its mark. A familiar flare of light went dancing past his feet, and while Cayde was glad Tony was trying to lend a hand, he wasn't quite sure how effective the flare was going to be in favor of a grenade. And boy did he miss his grenades. Not that there was much time to really express such sentiment when a leggy creature was leaping at you.
He misjudged the distance, and perhaps its speed as his hand cannon was brought up too late. Next thing he knew, his back was hitting the dirt hard, and there were way too many appendages on him than he was comfortable with. His other hand wrapped around his knife, its blade nearly as long as his forearm, and he yanked it clean of its sheath and deliberately with the creature in its path.