Osbourne slowly reach for her and Celris held up a hand, "One moment, HighBreed."<br/>Osbourne tilted his head, "Of course, LowBreed."<br/>Celris scowled and threw off her cloak, exposing her small vest and bilious cloth pants, as well as the entirety of her fur pattern to the sun.<br/>She took the sword and grinned, "Gladly."<br/>With those razors on her gloves and the magic sword, she could see the serpent's death on the horizon. It didn't ease the fear but violent anticipation was the louder of the two emotions now.<br/>She threw her packs down, lightening her body as much as she could and latched onto Osbourne's arm.<br/>He drew an arm around her waist and jumped into the air, wings pumping fast to carry both their weights.<br/><br/>Osbourne stared down at the serpent, wondering whether killing it was worth it. It posed no threat to<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>he could fly and enjoy fire and flame.<br/>It's not like he had a choice, that magician could end the spell with one word and his precious armor would render him immobile, where surely the Feral would destroy the rest. Osbourne, however, was almost sure that that was a bluff. Almost.<br/>He doubted the existence of a reversible healing spell, and the Alune's personality made him doubt  the very fact that he knew such a spell...but then again...His head was starting to hurt.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Well what if it 'accidentally' kills them? Not your fault, and you can leave for free, no worse for wear. Flames can't hurt you, remember the Obsidian?</span><br/><br/>Osbourne shook his head, and Celris banged on his arm, "Oy! Hurry up! The thing sees us! Lemme at it, Oz!"<br/>Oz? His name wasn't Oz. When had he switched from the 'HighBreed' to Oz? His head hurt more as his thoughts struggled to process this.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">See how insolent they are to such a 'divine angel'? If you dropped her from this height she wouldn't stand a chance.</span><br/><br/>This inner voice had valid logic, however, the magician...<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Fire. Stall.</span><br/><br/>Osbourne knew two things; the serpent could not hurt him, as long as he stayed airborne, and this was an all too convenient way to return to his home, victorious.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">But the attack. If it was your own kind, what would you do? They surely would not welcome you home.</span><br/><br/>Not this again, he'd shoved that issue far back into his mind.<br/>His arm tightened on the Feral, stall it was. It was<span style="font-style: italic">Blasphemy</span>to think his comrades would do something so illogical.<br/>"What're you doing??? We're over the thing!" She drew her claws across his chest, causing an unholy metal screech that shuddered through his body and loosened his grip.<br/>Celris squirmed in his grasp, and dropped, nearly missing her target. She landed on it's head, winded, and scrambled up towards its eye, using her claws to keep her grip.<br/>Osbourne hovered there, watching, well, all he had to do was wait, now, and pray it would finish...whatever it was doing. If not...-!!!<br/>He jolted and examined at the fresh, gray claw marks on his chest and felt the rage rise, something he'd been born learning to embrace. His beautiful black armor, marred by five<span style="font-style: italic">imperfect</span>lines, reaching from his collar to his waist. Such imperfection would be cringed at back home.<br/>He watched on, blackly wishing for the glory and warmth of fire and flickering flame, explosion and sound.