Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180421045755

"I'm with you, metal man" Prad chimes, his finger lining up with Marcus' sprint, the tear in the sky ready with another bolt.

The bolt itself is eager, impatient, seeing in full its target. It's galvanized head it joined by two more. Three Harrowing descent ready to fall down upon the raving man like a cataclysm augured by nature. Prad, seeing how fast the man is running, decides to bring the aim to a personal fashion.

His other hand holding the amalgamate of lightning crushes the erratic product between its fingers, the residue running up his arm, to be saved later. He brings said arm in front of the aiming hand, resting it upon the charged limb like a rifle on a table.

With his idle eye ever closed, Prad's other iris is fuelled in a greater shade of purple. His sight is crystal clear, a sniper lined up with the other side.

"Bang".

Three galvanized bolts fall down to earth, one by one, the second and third following the first. Their target: the wardog.