Dirt spattered over Symon's face at the earth rose around his enemy, clenching about the beast that had been roaring in his face, its long, gleaming teeth inches from his face.

Asra. The name was like a clarion bell in his mind bright eyes, secrets, what's behind that smile-, his thoughts edged in fire, the chain reaction of firing thoughts twisted together. His head lolled to the side, and so he was party to that look in the man's face. The fury that etched handsome features, that twisted them into something different, something transcendent, something perfect. He felt struck, like an arrow to the breast, watching as agony rippled through him.

Beautiful.

But his pain hazed admiration was yanked away as those giant earthen fingers gripped around the dirt, and perforce Symon as well. His knife was still in his hand, and with the beast understandably distracted, he rammed the blade into the joint where claw met bone, and twisted, shearing through tendon, separating the claw. It gave him the chance to scramble out from under the creature, its claw still embedded in his shoulder. He leaned back, bloody and panting and between one breath and the next, the thing was crushed into a bloody, gory pulp, viscera and bits of bone raining down on him.