[ There's something even more terrifying about the mindless urge to kill than any grudge could ever be. At least Ernesto can understand a personal grudge, or even bearing one for a friend, but this? This is something else, and there isn't even the flash of recognition on Amos' face that would tell Ernesto he knows what he's doing and who he's attacking right now.
That means there's no reasoning with him, but there's also no talking to him. Ernesto isn't usually the sort to use chatter as a distraction during a fight, but it's a nice potential fallback to try and grab when things get really desperate.
It doesn't seem like it'll do him any good now. Hell, even taking another swing with his sword doesn't seem to really deter Amos, and his heart rests high in his throat as he scrambles backwards away from the man, eyes flitting from one claw to the next as he tries to figure out how the hell to avoid them. ]
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That means there's no reasoning with him, but there's also no talking to him. Ernesto isn't usually the sort to use chatter as a distraction during a fight, but it's a nice potential fallback to try and grab when things get really desperate.
It doesn't seem like it'll do him any good now. Hell, even taking another swing with his sword doesn't seem to really deter Amos, and his heart rests high in his throat as he scrambles backwards away from the man, eyes flitting from one claw to the next as he tries to figure out how the hell to avoid them. ]