Closed Underestimation can be Brutal [Anton]

[Crypt]

The summoned lion, its fur a shade of purest obsidian, clawed with its great claws at the small figure that was Anton, leaving deep gashes across the child's cheeks, tearing up what clothes the Silencer was wearing. The cavernous maw of the dark lion moved closer to his face, the many sharp teeth framing his prodigious mouth. Anton could smell the pungent stench emanating from it; it was about as disgusting as Vayt's arse could be - perhaps a little less intense. As the monstrous creature leaned in for the kill, a fist, tiny in comparison with his huge bulk, slammed into his lower jaw, striking with more force than one would have expected from such a small child; but then again, the Silencers of Alvadas would not have allowed Anton to remain as one of their own if he was as weak as he should have been at his age.

[Anton]

He struck again, and when that wasn't quite enough for him to crawl free, he renewed the agitated djed in his arm and repeated the action a few more times. The smell of ammonia and blood and the dirty ground flooded him and he hated it, and he hated the creature that was trying, with great enthusiasm, to eat him. Not for the lack of trying, of course. The cheap shirt was already the first casualty, and a small part of him was glad that the uniform just wasn't there today.

The next punch came with res, and he hoped to achieve the same effect as he did with the formerly living manservant's face.

[Crypt]

Anton would begin to feel the strain of using such amounts of Djed in a relatively short period of time; however, the adrenaline coursing through his veins banished all discomfort as he grappled with his monstrous foe, deperately landing blows onto the massive feline. A lucky blow to the nose of the night lion sent it recoiling instinctively from Anton, allowing the child to roll out from underneath the large frame of the summoned creature. Pawing at its badly lacerated face, the night lion made no motion to attack Anton as the sheer pain of having blades of wind tear through its visage hammered its mind. And a crossbow bolt tore through the left ear of the feline, its sharp end plunging itself into the wooden planks that made up the floor.