[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts
PHYSICALLY HARD | MENTALLY MEDIUM | MAGICALLY MEDIUM | ATTACK IN [b]#757f96[/b]
[div style="background: linear-gradient(to right, #464C5A, #757f96, #464C5A); width: 500px; height: 2px;"]Long range. The feline had a few tricks up his metaphorical sleeve, but he was... rusty. It had been a hot minute since he last participated in combat. He was bound to make a fool of himself at first.
His sight rolled across the weapons spread across the table that was in front of him as he pulled his satchel off of his shoulders and untied the frayed scarf from around his neck and set them in neat fashion on the ground in a place they would not be trampled or dirtied by the oozing dummies. Then he walked toward the assortment, his jade eyes glinting with intrigue.
Crow drew his paw across the spears on the table, then frowned. "Am I allowed to use my own weapons?" he inquired, turning his attention to Morgan as he revealed an intricately carved blade from the dark leather sheath strapped to his body. "These don't really appeal to me." The dagger showed signs of wear from use, but it was otherwise clean, and it twinkled as the faint lighting that reached through the thick canopy struck it. The feline took pride in keeping his possessions looking shiny. They lasted longer if they were well cared for, and Crow had an attachment to this particular dagger...