Masks 2

Ezren smacked the hand offered to him, as if he had been offered a low five instead.

”Hot damn, nice one!” He coughed, starting to pull the all-too-long spines out of himself like a magician’s bright rags. ”Lookin’ kinda dramatic out here, why don’t you all uhh, take five or something, I’ll play with the small fries.”

Taking one of his nicely bloodied spines, he jumped on it to give it a little bend, and fired him up an enormous scythe to go cut the grass with. And mutants, you know, whatever.