Don't Let Them Catch You

41• Breaking

Amos flexed his wings, visibly irate.

"She's under my protection." He forewarned, the noise reverberating from deep within his chest.

It had been some time since he'd seen the Hound.

Despite how fond he may have once been of it in the past, he could have waited another millennia.

Each pair of those crimson eyes turned to him, dimming with a sudden despondency that hadn't been present mere seconds before.

Amos prided himself when it came to his instincts. He wasn't sure what it was that evoked a stiffness in his gut, one that slowly creeped across his body. Perhaps it was a scent in the air his subconscious picked up, or his memory relying on patterns of the past to spot something inconsistent...

In the split second that passed between the now and the hounds declaration that it was here for Aura, something had happened.

He didn't dare turn his back on the canine to observe the nephilim behind him. The dog was too unpredictable, driven by forces he wasn't allowed to understand, though he wouldn't take a single chance.

Amos flexed his fingers on the hilt of his sword.

Then the sentry began to retreat.

With a unanimous regal incline of each head, a shadow cast over those beady red eyes. "Until we meet again."

Then, each muzzle tilted to the skies before exhaling a deep howl. In response came calls of the same kind, coming from different directions, some further than the others, confirming Amos' suspicions that it was not alone.

It shook its coat as though to remove the tension, then composed itself and gave one last sombre look at the nephilim standing beside him.

Its withdrawal was silent. If you blinked, you would've missed it slink into the shadows and disappear as though it had been a figment of your imagination, leaving you to question your sanity if you didn't know any better.

Almost immediately the environment changed in its absence. Despite the darkness, the air lightened. Bishi buzzed passed his ears and lorkai peaked at them from the shadows, vacant features constantly shifting, searching for a face to lure them away.

He wasn't worried about them. He bared his canines and hissed a warning.

They scattered.

It was then that he finally sheathed his sword and allowed his body to absorb its energy back into himself. It disappeared and rejoined his essence. Each weapon he harboured was an extension of himself, a weapon shaped by the intricacies of his soul. It allowed him to withdraw it from himself and conceal it whenever needed.

Only then, with his guard lowered, not down, did he turn to face Aura, who seemed to be a shade paler than she had been moments before.

He searched those violently blue eyes that stared vacantly into space as though haunted.

"Hey?" He murmured softly, confused. He took a tentative step towards her, trying to make his size seem comforting, unsure if this was her reaction to seeing the hellhound or if something else had happened.

That stiffness in his gut.

He ground his teeth when he pieced it together.

It had entered her mind.

Shown her something...

He debated prying, hesitated, and then stopped after coming to the conclusion that whenever she was ready she would tell him.

For now, all he could do was be present and give her the time she needed.

Amos reached a hand to the curve of her jaw, stroking along her cheek. Aura flinched at the contact, blinking as though breaking out of a trance.