What a peculiar mortal... or rather, something else.
Watching a gory demise with the same nonchalance one would an actor in a theater. Make-believe blood, the gnashing of teeth as though a show meant to entertain children. But this was no such thing. Death scented the air now, and the silence hung heavy with pleas unanswered.
And so, the one-eyed gunslinger's own words remained seemingly just as unacknowledged.
Click. Clack. A snip-snap of jaws.
The hounds, slender constructs of flesh and metal, continued their advance. Sword-tails and gun-mouths, two of each variety. Spreading out in wide arcs to encircle their prey.
And yet, their gait seemed to slow, as though uncertain of their violence. Weighing their options, weighing his words? Did they even understand speech? Or, rather... were they their own creatures, or perhaps puppets, moved by the shadowed mage's phantom strings?
An extension of the summoner, acting on his behalf. He heard the words, he simply chose not to answer. But the hounds stalled their assault nonetheless. An opportunity to make peace..? To offer further explanation? Time was ticking, and the dark Wind did not feel particularly gracious.
He still did not get what he came here for, after all. The hunt had been far too easy... a high value target was who he was after. A gunman with a hollow heart.
The rumors were certainly proven true. A crafty spark in his eye, an a callous indifference. There was danger in that man and a sly intelligence and the Hunter was not about to dismiss his Espers and risk disarming himself against a potential foe. His intel was scarcely wrong.
"......" The gunmage's silence rang out as though a sound in its own right.
Was his inaction really a grace given to the other, when the beasts were already taking position behind his back? Would they not simply pounce and seize his throat mid-speech?
It seemed that the entire situation had become quite the gamble.
