Ahh, much better - the fire iron wasn't part of his Being, so this felt much more like a prop. Alastor backed up as they exchanged 'blows', clanging metal on metal, and he kicked aside ducks in his path so he didn't break his ankles on them.

"I quite enjoyed reading Flowers for Algernon. I did end up begrudgingly sucked into Pan's Labyrinth despite my avoidance of Vox's vapid consumerist productions... and by Charlie's emphatic insistence I watched and admittedly enjoyed What We Do In The Shadows," he listed off, focusing on dramatic dodges and backwards hops, landing steady in the mud as if it were just as solid as stone. "Many of the last few decades' worth of musicals, however, are horribly lacking."