It had been too late by the time that Levani had heard it, distracted by the ache of her body, the desperation of her pool of power, the desire to sleep for days to replenish herself, despite the fact that the monster was noisome, cumbersome. Her movements were hardly deceptive either, as she’d spun to meet the creature face-on, a touch of grace almost masked entirely by her tired gait. Almost. The giveaway was in her sluggish movements, and she would not have been able to dodge in time without suffering a blow first, possibly from the massive, jagged paws that the bear lugged beside it. She had prepared for it, even, tossing herself to the side, bracing herself for the connection and pain, pulling the vestiges of her strength to ready herself. It didn’t happen, to her surprise, and instead she heard the clash of bulk, of flesh and blade. Two figures, massive beyond their forms, locked together inexplicably. Kallo had placed himself between them, the girth of his sword shielding his body from the gargantuan creature.<br/><br/>It was not a battle that could last forever, Levani could see that clearly. The man’s muscles strained, rigid, trembling beneath the weight as he was pushed to a knee. It was almost entrancing, in a way, for he should have been crushed ages ago by the enormous cretin, but he resisted, fought.<br/><br/>Panic narrowed itself inside of her, watching it warble and scream; she felt that she needed to do something. Levani searched within, seeking any shred of power she could find, tangling it in her palm like so many threads. Her vision blurred softly, a warning, threatening that if she so much as spared an ounce of herself, she would pay for it dearly, but she couldn’t let him die - couldn’t do nothing. She gathered what she could and knelt, hand almost pressed to the ground, when Kallo managed to spin and throw the enormous beast. A soft gasp, as he’d managed to surprise her again, the threads cut and the power dissipating back into her body. A nauseating wave washed through her, but it was done. The golem made quick work of the putrid thing, its thick trunks of arms covered in scarlet black.<br/><br/>The silence swelled around them for a moment and golden eyes shut, listening to Kallo’s heavy breaths and her own, her heart beating strong in her chest, slowing, the river of blood in her ears. A soft sweat had broken on her forehead, the air cooling it, welcome. Her staff was still in her hand, a heavy, reassuring thing, sturdy against her palm, tingling power down to her fingertips.<br/><br/>The curious cry of a bird brought the world back to the forefront, scattering the peace, reminding her of the pain that resonated along her arm, the ache that spiraled along her bones. Kallo spoke, a strong voice, clear, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her. She paused after his question and slowly smiled, laughing as the circumstances were recounted in her mind. When her moment of internal humor passed, amused that he’d asked her such a thing covered in the spittle of a monstrous bear that he’d nearly been smothered by, she simply said, “You are quite the masterpiece,<i>sul’ima</i>.”<br/><br/>After, she glanced down at her arm, noted the early crusting of the blood against her tan skin, the obvious holes in the flesh from many jagged teeth. It hurt to acknowledge, so she turned her attention back to the masses of corpses that littered the field. Noted the clean artistry of Kallo’s sword in the bodies of wolves, compared to the gruesome crushed and splattered bodies of her own. The runic tendrils were still active, their three victims hanging limply in coiling and writhing lengths. She started with them, approaching, using her staff to thank and disperse the energy. The tendrils violently ripped themselves back into the earth, taking the black corpses with them. The golem dutifully scraped together what pieces it could, gathered even the pieces that Kallo had left.<br/><br/>As she watched it, Levani took a deep breath, leaning into her staff, arm wrapped supportively around it. A glance to the sky and she could see a dark cloud loom slowly closer, flanked by the burning brilliance of the sun, lining the smaller clouds in a beautiful gold. She longed to lay along the branches of the trees, watching them sway and tease her, with her legs cast over the side and softly swinging. She would fall asleep on the warm breeze, lulled to her dreams by the rain patter on the leaves and the mournful call of an elusive sciolo bird.<br/><br/>Her brow drew together and she frowned slightly. “I may be… a little tired,” she admitted now, the events of the night before catching up to her, the thought of her soft, warm pelts on her nest of a bed calling to her. Profound how such little comforts could beckon the way that they never had before. It wasn’t often that she needed to deny herself sleep - now she knew, of course, that she<i>hadn’t</i>needed to keep watch over Kallo through the night. There was a small sense of regret, wishing she had at least snoozed in the chair, but she hadn’t.<br/><br/>The golem finished its small pile, and Levani allowed it back into the earth too. She turned her attention now to the two human bodies that had been left behind from Kallo’s fight the day prior, wondering if she should have sent them beneath as well.<br/><br/>“The rain and dirt should make short work of what is left,” she mused, quick glances noting what smatterings of blood and black had escaped the scrapings of the golem. “What do we do with these two? Should we burn them?” She asked, approaching them, noting their foreign clothes, their maimed bodies. Spat to the side, uttering, “<i>Jidaki</i>” in a quiet, hostile tone, swollen with animosity.<br/><br/>“Can you tell where they came from?” She questioned, kneeling down beside them, trusting that Kallo would know more of the outside and the origins of strangers than her. She rifled through one’s clothes, he would no longer had legs, and pulled a vial of black from his person. She knew, immediately, what it was that he carried. She snarled with rage, spilling into thread of profanities of another language, their intent made obvious by her angry tone. “Disgusting wretches,” she ended it, reserved, silently furious.