Symon's lips twisted back from his lips, in a wild, feral snarl. The fins at his wrists seemed to rattle, the spines at the ends clicking against one another. Symon was quick too, but not nearly as fast as the beast, which launched itself towards the guardsman. Symon turned to move, to meet the beast, but as he planted his foot, it got caught in a rabbit hole, and his leg buckled. He didn't curse, didn't get a chance, as the beast launched itself, and one of its many, hungry mouths clamped over Symon's shoulder. THe weight of the beast slammed him down to his back, razor sharp teeth worrying at his armor, tearing at the hardening leather, starting to reach down to the flesh underneath.

Symon's eyes seemed to glow and he bared his own teeth, which now, looked a lot more like fangs. With the proximity of the creature, his sword was useless. He dropped it, raking his own clawed hand against the monster, while his other hand reached out to draw his belt knife.