Dark eyes narrowed (a feat in itself with the slack-eyed looks Nic usually wore) as the Twilight squared his feet on the ground and prepared for a concentrated, direct strike at one of the fat grub things. He would have done it, too, if they didn't keep blinking at him and looking disgustingly innocent. Fortunately for the little beasties, the ground vibrating just slightly drew Nicolas' attention away long enough to see familiar hair and a scruffy face.

Sighing long and loud, Nic clicked his sword back into its sheath and frowned, raising a hand to gesture roughly in the direction of the grub-things, then out at the rest of the forest. The forest was filled with those things, and other crap he'd never seen before. Raising an eyebrow, he challenged Worick to suggest they shouldn't at least know what they were dealing with. Of course he wouldn't attack anything without the man's express direction now that he was there. No point causing trouble Worick didn't want.

Still, what were they supposed to do and where were they supposed to go, he asked, pointing up and drawing a circle in the air before gesturing two thumbs up, then opening palms flat parallel to each other and gesturing forward. Which way?