mason normandin ( werewolf ) . (biggestbaddest) wrote in light_of_may, |
Mason felt the change in the air that alerted him to the arrival of other figures, and for just a moment he found himself wondering if more of those things had decided to join the party. In the next instant a man was striding past him swinging a sword, and another was kneeling down at his side. He had Mason's gun in his hand. Strangely, the werewolf noticed that before he picked up on the striking similarity between the two men who had arrived on the scene, but that wasn't so odd when you took into account just how territorial and possessive he was. It was a joint effort that saw him sitting up, but Mason didn't stay down like that for long, quickly pushing himself back to his feet, reaching out his hand and taking his sidearm back from the man even as he mumbled a rough thanks. All things considered, that was more than most could have expected from the Normandin Alpha, he wasn't the sort to show gratitude all that often, and there was a lot going on around him, but it was the least he could do under the circumstances.
Knowing without checking that he still had a few rounds left in the clip -- not to mention the one in the chamber -- Mason once again held the gun at the ready. That was when he heard the throaty snarl from off to his left, and sure enough, with a single glance he confirmed his suspicions. They had company. This time, when he raised his gun, he didn't make the mistake of lining up a shot at the creature's chest, but instead aimed directly at the head before squeezing the trigger. Just like with the first he had killed it was three shots before the thing was down. The cartridge in the bottom of the gun was empty, he knew, but there was one left in the chamber. Mason knew to count his shots. With a quick scan of his surroundings he turned, weapon at the ready, back to the men who had come to his aid, one hand leaving the gun he held to reach for one of the spare clips he kept safely stored at his belt.