He felt the magic pouring through his body. The tattoo twitched and with a shout of pain Vasilli could not hold in, the creature pulled itself from his body. It flopped, bloody as a newborn onto the ground and stretched its wings. It started to cry and grew to the size of a horse before it turned to Vasilli and lowered itself in a bow. “How may I serve, Master?” Its voice rasped through a mouth of venomous fangs.
Amy Kuivalainen, Cry of the Firebird
blood, creature, magic, vasilli