Malakai's gaze was leveled on the Stalkborn as he jumped off the large root.
He was different from the other Stalkborns of his group. Rather than slender, he was broad, with toned muscles brimming with energy.
Just like the last Vorr'Takk he had battled, the youth's legs weren't human.
They were pitch black, hunched at the knees. Despite the distance, Malakai could feel the pressure contained in those legs. It was akin to a spring constantly coiled and ready to explode at any moment.
The youth's face didn't appear angry, but his aura said everything Malakai needed to know about his current feelings.
Many from the crowd shot off excitedly from their seats as he landed on the stage, eyes leveled straight at Malakai. He was about to take a step towards him when a sharp voice cut him off.
"Vaelik."
The youth, Vaelik, paused at the Grath'Mekhai's sudden call. As he turned towards her, he felt a heavy aura slam against his body, hunching his back.
