[If a giant flying moth was difficult to spot, imagine how much more difficult it is for him to figure out where Lance is being grabbed and what's got him when they're surrounded by darkness and wetstuff.
A single arm makes its way around Lance's middle, intent on lifting him out of the water to eliminate some of the threat...but Lance is wet, heavy and whatever that thing is, it's got him by a leg.
That, and they're in too deep to be picking each other up. What a shitshow.]
I'm not going to!
[And out comes the knife. A vibrant, circular purple grow emanates from the handle.]
Which leg is it?!
[Talk about wrong implications. At least he's got the location/body part right.
What if it's a shark tho....fucking marsh sharks.]
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A single arm makes its way around Lance's middle, intent on lifting him out of the water to eliminate some of the threat...but Lance is wet, heavy and whatever that thing is, it's got him by a leg.
That, and they're in too deep to be picking each other up. What a shitshow.]
I'm not going to!
[And out comes the knife. A vibrant, circular purple grow emanates from the handle.]
Which leg is it?!
[Talk about wrong implications. At least he's got the location/body part right.
What if it's a shark tho....fucking marsh sharks.]