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It had really seemed to matter when she started walking.

It had seemed important, consuming even. He had said he'd cared for her...he had promised to protect her...and then he'd left. And then they'd met again, and she'd yelled, and he'd held her, and he told her he cared for her. He told her he'd protect her. And then he'd left. Again. So it had seemed important.

She remembered being consumed by anger, that might have hid some kind of despair, some sort of crushed hope. But with each step her strange, scaled feet took along the road across the plains, it seemed to matter less and less. She barely felt anything anymore.

A human hand brushed strands of blue hair away from light brown eyes, then returned to the woman's side as she looked to the northeast. To her eyes, and to the eyes of any who could see telepathic power, there was a single golden line stretching from her, towards the Leviathan.

Even now, Owle stepped off the road she had been following, into the grass of the plains. She needed no road...not when her power could tell her the exact direction of his mind. Even if it didn't seem to matter anymore, she had come this far. There was little sense in turning back without seeing him.

She was heading straight for Vahn.

Jericho was jogging through the plains. Gotta keep yourself in good shape!

"Hmm?"

Jericho slowed down and turned around. His long, beige short turned around with him, and so did his black, sleeveless shirt. His hair swiveled slightly, yet stayed finely tousled as always. His bright green eyes didn't roll that much, but they did lay onto the man that had been following Jericho.

He took his hands out of his pockets.

"Oh, hello. Nice day, isn't it?"

"What the he--"

No time to swear. A flash of light on both his arms, and Jericho was wearing his weapons, a pear of steel gauntlets that covered his forearms and fists, both for defense and offense. When the large man started lowering, he pushed himself off the ground, jumping high and all the way on fatman's shoulders, before jumping again and turning on himself. When Jericho'd land, it'd be at the guy's feet, facing him as he was lying on the ground.

"What was that for? Sheesh."

Laying with his back against a tree, Kurimu averted his gaze to the night sky as smoke from his cigarette drifted upward, dispersing as it weaved through the plant's leaves. Having just awoken from a long nap, his eyes were still weary. He reached over to his side, grabbing his travel bag and removing a map from inside of it.

"Let's see... Still a pretty long way to go." he muttered to himself, his voice deep and smoky.

His eyes scanned the terrain.

"This plain... So quiet."

He admired the peaceful scenery for a few moments before putting out his cig and rubbing his eyes with his gloved fingers. He wore a black t-shirt and old, beat-up blue jeans. His red leather jacket sat crumpled on the ground at his side, near his travel bag. Reaching into the bag he pulled out a wrinkled pack of cigarettes, gazing inside to see only two left. He frowned. Yawning, he tossed the pack back into the crumpled mess of his belongings and relaxed, closing his eyes and going back to sleep, hoping to get a little more rest before sunrise.

As the fists met and smashed against a large balled fist beneath the clothe, the larger man yelped in a high pitch, something people that large arent expected to do when feeling pain. But a hand balled into a tight fist is less fragile than a hand which was flat or at an position which would shift the bone structure around, so damage would be minimised. To how much damage however, it was not certain, but safe to say, he wouldnt be using that hand for a couple of minutes.

But, as soon as the gauntlets would meet fist, the big man's left arm, which was already in motion, would connect at the same time. Airborne, Jericho didnt have anywhere to run to, his body suspended in the air, hands already being used to make a counter attack, his legs already too low and too close to be used as a defense.

Muscled bulged beneath clothe as the left arm snaked out into Jericho's right side like a cannon being unleashed, right beneath the ribcage at that soft spot. What he would then feel would probably be a painful sensation, for the fact that, one; it was one of those 'pressure points' which induced pain, and two; sharp claws would shred through the clothe of the long sleave, through Jericho's clothes, and into flesh beneath the ribs. Unless of course, he wore some sort of metal armour or hard leather which restricted movement, for the force of the thrust produced by the giant man's heavy muscled frame and the little blade like claws would tear through clothe and soft leather alike.

This particular soft spot, between the muscles and underneath the ribs, was a very vulnerable place, for at the moment claws punctured flesh, fingerd would curl up around beneath the rib to keep the man in place. Pushing off would really accomplish nothing, as the body would just bend back and pull against the flesh caught beneath the ribs and fingers. In such a spot, even without claws to help enter the body, it was soft enough for any normal person to stick their fingers in and hook their fingers around the bone; here, the claws only helped to inflict more pain and a better grip on the rib.

Now, by pushing off, Jericho would be forced to lean back, body suspended in the air by the hand in his side gripping tightly around his lower rib in his right side. However, in such a position, no matter how strong someone was, it would be near impossible to balance the weight of the man properly, and he would begin to fall and tip backwards.

So what would the larger man do? He'd push his body forward as his right arms would push down, following closely after that push as his hand was released. He didnt need to use the injured hand, just the arm, enough to drive Jericho's upper body further downward so that the back of his head would slam into the ground before anything else would. And following that, the larger man's body would drive down to land atop of Jericho as his left arm would follow the body and dig its clawed fingers into the same area it had attacked before, digging into flesh and curling fingers around the lower rib, following that, the larger man would pull against the ribs, almost as if to rip him apart.