I kind of want to hurt him...

ANother? Besides, there always has to be a redshirt somewhere.

((Friday is tomorrow too! Oh joy, I've been waiting to tear him a new one.))

As Snow had done so, many times before, he awoke to an odd sound, the sound of something heavy scraping across the ground.
Of course he didn't seem to be all that worried, it wasn't anything really all that spectacular, yet still he knew that the people of this world were far more hostile and deviousthan those in any previous place he had ever encountered.
Slowly, he got to his feet and began walking in the direction of the noise, noticing very quickly someone walking across the desert region.

Soon enough Antoinne's mark appeared from a nearby location. A perfect lure indeed. Though he wanted to rush the target and rip out their throat, the bloodlust was still under his control. The perfect place for them to start would be face to face. The golden garb of the man seemed out of place, dazzling even, as Antoinne started heading for the man. The staff in his hand still made a scraping noise as he willed his target closer. Closer.

The sword hanging from the target's hip may have had a shorter range, but range meant nothing with weapons such as theirs. It wasn't his nature to worry too much about such things. Perhaps if this, winged humanoid creature, could even use a sword, let alone talk, things could be much, much more interesting. Squinting, Antoinne tried to size up his prey, despite the distance between them and the heat's haze. He could make out some vulpine features on the head. Where they real or fake? Well he'll find out when he rips them from his target's disembodied head. Another thing too, a shroud of darkness seemed to emerge from the thing's back. They must be the wings like the report said. Such obstructive-looking appendages served to make his mark a bigger target.

And so as he shuffled across the runway, not taking his eyes of the mark and edging closer, and closer.

"Hmmph... Another overly hot day..."

Snow of course was complaining about the desert heat as he walked towards the man who had his sight set on ending the life of the unfortunate Angelis.
However, Snow was more keen to attempting to earn the favour of the would be assassin... But as he would soon learn, an ally would not be found this day.

Walking toward Antoinne, he began to feel an odd sensation pulling through him... As if the man was emanating a sheer lust for blood.

He knew that this would end in a fight anyway, so he made the first move: he drew his blade and held it out in front of himself, then began calling out to the man,
"I, Snow Taradien, hereby accept your challenge... Battle without quarter..."

((I have no idea how you found out my name.))
Oh, so the fool actually realised what was going to happen. The remaining distance between was close enough for a short sprint now. Now it wasn't nice to withhold information regarding himself so Antoine spoke in a confident tone of voice.

"Antoinne Fevreux," he said and bowed slightly, "A pleasure to meet you."

Snow Taradien, a name most strange and awkward, was the name given. The blade was drawn and the cinematographic sheen of the sword was quite apparent, in contrast to his matte red staff. Antoinne was still in control but now he could feel his blood racing. The staff left his side as he threw it up, catching it by one end, in a form that has been honed by many years of practice, before bringing it around his own back, grabbing it once again by is other hand to finally bring it all to rest behind his back in a fanciful and useless flourish. Settling around him, the dust was soon disturbed again as he loped forward. Antoinne was ready and he was out for some blood.

Ah, perhaps I may have wrote that post in a confusing manner.

To Clarify, though I did say:

	Quote: Walking toward Antoinne

I never actually stated that Snow knew his name was Antoinne.
Sorry for any confusion.

Knowing now that his senses were correct, Snow rushed forward, he leapt in to the air -mere inches away from Antoine- and came down towards his opponant, as if to slice him vertically in two.

((Oh, its just my style not to write about anything my character doesn't know about. That threw me off there.))

It was then at Icarus took flight, but instead of a clumsy fall, the blade held in the hands his adversary were clearly coming down with a point. Close enough for them to stare into each other's eyes but again, as if it were training, Antoine twisted himself sideways and brought the arm that carried his weapon to bear. The end of the staff planted itself in to the ground as he braced for the strike, ready to ensnare Snow should he be careless.

((isn't Nini participating in this?))

Snow continued downward striking as hard as he could.
As the blake struck Antoinnes weapon, Snow began to pour cold energy into it.
When Snow's feet landed on the ground he continued to force downward and push more energy into the blade, in an attempt to freeze his opponant and end it all quickly.

((never got confirmation from the second party involved. I dont just throw myself into someone elses parade im fine just watching, then))

OOC: If that's so then I'm awakening the first RP character I ever created *sniff* oh the memories.

Another day, another quest, in the life of Lady Alayna Landoor, daughter of the sun. watched as the two men fought. Her hair, straight and long looked like threads of gold as the ever present desert sun's rays reflected off of it. She casually pulled a strand of hair over her right ear, revealing the elven quality of them and looked over at the golden winged butterfly that sat upon her shoulder with golden amber eyes, which fluttered it's wings in response.

She watched as the two men fought, both she did not know, one was her target. A being she had been informed who shared similar cold powers with a witch she had fought the year before. She leaned on her staff, covered in carved runes passed down throughout her families generation and watched. It was rather fortunate that her destination had led her to the desert, despite the lack of greenery which she used to her will and hid within using her forest green cloak, and the great sun provided all the energy she needed.

Alayna clutched the pendant which hung from her neck, a golden sun, surrounded on one side by a silver moon. A symbol of her heritage, and an treasure from her mother, who's whereabout she had not known about for years. This was the purpose of her quest, to find her mother and bring her home, and answer the questions surrounding the Elven tribe, Dhaoseclipse. Once perceived to be an elven fairy tale, now a branch of her family.

She walked toward the battle, a blade crafted within elven forges slapping against her leg. Typically she was not a blade wielder, however the blade held a sentimental value. It belonged to her butler Wentworth, to which she named the blade, he had died while defending her from Wolfmen years ago when she was young and foolish. She had grown to love the blade and used it ruthlessly, though the heart of her combat lay in ancient spells calling upon the fury of nature.

Stopping at a general distance away from the clash of the battle, she opened the palm of her hand. The butterfly floated off her shoulder and fluttered around her head, trailing golden dust behind her as it did. A ball of fire burst into life, floating above her hand growing slightly. She raised it above her staff, the runes glowing red simultaneously and threw the fire ball at her target.

OC: Oh hey Panda you sexy beast, can I join the rapefest?