The situation was insanity, but his mind could not comprehend such evils so quickly. It was a disgusting creature, and although Duskbreaker was taught to try and appreciate all, there was always a limit. There are stories of vile beings, those who wish only death and destruction, written in the darkest of stars. They are warned that they may encounter such beings on their journeys into the unknown, and Duskbreaker felt absolute terror in the face of such a being.

Devika was silent, and part of him wished he could hear her thoughts in these fleeting moments. Yet he did his best to use his eyes to see her, and touch to feel her. That is when he felt her by his side, the two inseparable in this moment. Fur against fur, teeth bared at the disease before them. It was a bond forged in a mutual understanding, and one they refused to let him break.

“Death-thing, begone! This one will not yield!” he declares, feeling Devika’s rumbling beside him. The words of the diseased being touch the air, but Duskbreaker can hardly make it out with the adrenaline rush in his veins. His fur was on edge, so much so one could almost feel lightning between each strand. Muscled were tensed and ready. The end result will be whatever the stars had written.

The diseased being opened his jaws again at Devika. Duskbreaker’s molten eyes moved to watch, widening in shock. The death-thing did not listen to his plea. It did not care about anything or anyone. It just wanted destruction. Duskbreaker lunged forward, seeking fangs to the throat or whatever he could on the being. The smell was wretched. The sights was horrendous. Yet, he lunged forward anyway. He battled his discomfort through danger. He had to. He had no choice. It may be just enough…for maybe one of them to survive.