Talen was hard upon the heels of the runner, his legs feeling like they might give out and his lungs aflame. Fortunately, the corner came before his exhaustion did, and as their escapee slowed down to turn a corner Talen lunged at him with arms wide. His tackle struck like an avalanche. He hit shoulder first, hammering into the strangers side and knocking the both of them to the ground, the impact having uncontrollable momentum and force because of their collective speed and weight. For a moment, Talen was stunned. Luckily, so was the man he hit. Talen got to his senses first and grabbed the prostrate strangers collar - He was whimpering something about a broken arm. He got to his feet and pulled the lighter man up with him, shoving him forward in front of him back where they'd come from. He kept his free hand clasped around the strangers shirt and kept a sharp eye on him as he herded him back to the pack. He was battered, bruised, but for once succesful, and a vicious half smile crept across his face. It remained there until he got back to the remaining men, where he pushed his Zeltivan prisoner towards Ricky with a grunt. "I've a present for you." He dusted off his armour falsely nonchalantly, and resumed a more professional composure. "You take care o' your lot, we'll take care of ours." With that he turned to the Denvali and switched into his native tongue. "You petching idiots line up and get your asses moving, we'll see what the chiefs got to say about this mess..." Truthfully, he worried if there would be much of a punishment at all if it was left to the usually harsh but clearly biased decisions of Adarin. Perhaps there'd be someone else to deal with the matter, otherwise his promise of Denvali justice might not end up being kept after all. |
