Draikhein made his way through New York's Central Park looking about the place. He was from such a small town that such a place was completely overwhelming to him. After having been training he decided to do some searching around. He was careful to hide his obvious Mutant genes by a long trench coat and pants that were a bit baggy. His wings were folded tightly to his back, but there was still a bit of a bulge. Draikhein smiled as he came to a large feild looking over the park. It was beautiful here..despite some of the graffiti that was around, but he could over look such things. He sat down upon the hill looking out his large Draconic tail could be seen when he sat it was hard to hide when he sat, but he did not care at the moment.

His eyes opened when he heard the coming and he saw the boot coming down on him, a roar emited his mouth as he quickly roared and got to his feet his trenchcoat shedding as he got up. He was now standing his large Draconic wings extended out, mostly in a sign of aggression and impressiveness, much like a cobra extending its hood. Draikhein moved towards the nearest clone a foot coming up planning to make contact with the closest man's stomach.

His Roar was growing louder as rage built up in him his stregnth coming up as he lifted the two men that hold of him throwing them into each other the one on his back his wings he could not lift off of his wings. But he did not mind, he could not fly anyways, not at the moment anyways. His wings acted much like an Aligator's mouth, when they are folded to his back the muscles are put in a way that he cannot open them with the simplest pressure. He Roared once more out of anger looking to the two men he had thrown into each other. His attention though was soon distracted by the men way-laying his side with punches Roaring to him he stepped back a bit at the punches attempting to block some, he was now facing the man throwing a punch or two when he could. One could see he was not fighting from skill, but out of instincts.

Roaring once more he Slashed at the one infront of him ripping flesh from the smell of it, he would not know how deep, but it would be enough for him to change targets. But there were too many of them for him. He slashed at another, and another his razor sharp claws cutting through what it touched..but not much. He was getting weary, he had not fought so hard in his life and his inexperience was showing. As Exhaustion kicked in he was becoming sluggish and very tired. Soon he was over run by the clones as he saw them falling to his knees breathing deeply and slowly trying to control his breath. He then fell forward as one of the clones kicked him in the head, falling to the side unconcious. Breathing deep still his whole body limp and bruised.