Stare said something, her words and movements bouncing off of the brewing anger that was coiling in Nevin’s stomach. This thing should not be here, not in this place where he felt safe and comfortable! The thread-worm was still acting like it hadn't been spotted - and Nevin could see how it blended in, if he couldn't feel its repulsive taint he might have thought it just another of the Ruilsark vines.
But no. This was a thread worm, a collection of threads so like his own, permanently melded together and guided by a malicious intent. Nevin didn't know why it was here, or why it was alone - if it was anything close to successful in hunting, it would have easily been able to replicate itself.
Movement from the corner of his eye - Stare was preparing to fight it. Nevin couldn't let her do that - she was going to try fighting it conventionally if she was reaching for something in her pocket. Her Gaze might work, but unless she had a magical artifact with her that would be all that could. He had to act, kill this thing before it could get to her.
Nevin burst into motion suddenly, sprinting towards the creature. He knew Stare could go faster than him - but he had the advantage of moving first, while she was still trying to get something out of her pocket. His legs ate the distance but he knew that if she tied to his dear friend would still be able to get ahead of him. So he cheated - or rather, he attacked from his full range. As the redhead ran forward, crimson threads shot out of his palm, weaving together into a long, strong cord that snapped forward, splitting the air with a crack as it smashed into the thread-worm.
Before it could try to escape - the others had died soon hater being touched by his tendrils but he didn't know if this would - Nevin wound his threads around the monster and trapped it, binding it in place. Even now he could feel it squirming, trying to escape, thrashing against his hold. Grimly he held on, forcing his threads to hold the beast until it finally stopped moving.
Shrrrkkk … the grinding sound hissed, and soon in her hand she had a fistful of flaming dead leaves. Stare held them in her gauntleted hand, knowing the idiocy of having them near metal, but it was the best she could do before Vitruvion made her fireproof. Flicking the spark stones into her pouch she began to run forwards, leaning down to scoop more debris as she did. The tendrils of the vines still writhed by the time she was running, only stopping when she actually got to their side.
Personally she did not care what Nevin thought. Right now she was more or less experimenting, trying to deduce what might be a way to seriously harm this plant thing before it got them harsher. Thus, she used Nevin’s powerful hold for what it was, and placed her attack on one particular curve where the vine snaked over a branch. Letting out a string of very rude phrases in the kenku dialect she took a leap and practically flew to land on the branch. Still the leaves burned in her hand, but she was fast, and careful to keep the dirt beneath the heating leaves. As she landed with claws that were made sharper by cruel steel daggers on the hind claw she stabbed down, fast, with her mythril dagger. Then the dagger was gone, leaving a savage cut with which to bleed by, and it was into this newly formed wound that Stare literally shoved the fire into.
