Achromatic

Chapter Three:

With his weapon held closely, Russet Sorell walked cautiously through the Emerald Forest. His landing went well, but not due to his weapon alone. It was due to quick calculation.

He was calm and collected, but with his guard well up. He was more than trained for hunting Grimm, and more than prepared for it. All he had to do was cross the forest with a partner.

He had a few friends attending with him. Clyde Ochre was likely the best bet in a partner that he knew; they were the best of friends in Atlas. However, finding him in this vast forest before anyone else? The chances were slim.

Now, Russet was a rather gregarious and kind fellow. He could make friends really easily! He knew that if he couldn't find his friend Clyde, surely he'd be able to get along with anyone he was partnered with! It should be fairly simple.

Although as anxious and excited as he was to find his new partner, he was not going to dwell too long. Being in a forest like this, it was only a matter of time before a creature of grimm showed itself. So, he kept a lookout. His eyes scanned every inch of his surroundings. Eventually, in the far distance, he saw something move.

The thing, whatever it was, didn't appear to see him at all. It seemed to be stalking something, or maybe someone else.

Russet held his battle-axe close. He watched the creature a bit longer.

Since his eyes were on the creature, he wasn't watching his feet. A simple, silly mistake.

The snap of a twig and the intake of breath drew the creature's attention to Russet.

He could now tell it was a beowulf. What a relief!

The beowulf growled lowly. It send slight chills down Russet's spine.

Still, he was calm. Still, he was collected.

But calm and collective didn't always guarantee a victory in battle! Because of this, Russet readied himself for an intense one.

The beowulf stormed forward, not a care for who or what heard it now that it's newfound prey spotted it, and vice versa.

Russet thought he was prepared, but he froze when it came at him. He couldn't seem to move, not even his eyes followed the beast as it approached ever so quickly.

He didn't see what happened. There was a loud screech of metal and he was thrown back a few feet. The air was knocked from him, but at least he was knocked back to his senses too.

He scrambled to his feet, struggling to breathe. He was hit, but not injured. That was okay. He was okay. But not if he didn't get his shit together.

The flip of a switch triggered his axe to fold into itself, then to expand. He now held a flamethrower, and he blasted the creature with flames and ambers making it howl in pain.

Once it was aflame enough not to do any harm to Russet to try to care for itself, he looked down at his torso. Vertical rips in the black fabrics of his shirt allowed for him to see the scratched metal underneath.

He huffed. He just got that polished!

He grumbled as he zipped up his jacket to cover the tears, looking up at the burning beowulf. It was starting to evaporate now. Russet sighed in relief.

Then, he was pushed.

It was sudden and unexpected, so much so that he had no time to catch himself. His head collided with the forest floor. Twigs, leaves, and small amounts of dirt and gravel gathered around him.

Russet got to his knees, only to feel a large thing push him back down and hold him there. A deep growl came from above him.

Russet couldn't move much, but he could see his weapon just inches out of reach. He extended his hand, reaching, frowning and concentrating hard. The weapon moved, just slightly.