When Donovan decided to head topside, Aza rose and took a step forward as if to reluctantly say<em>no don't go </em>or maybe<em>take me with you.</em>Dean, of course, immediately cemented her affright by candidly suggesting he fuck her fox form, possibly with the elf's willing or otherwise participation. He didn't mention consuming her soul during or after the fucking, but it was definitely implied, and he hadn't put the dagger away either. She retreated the same step as Dean's shadows formed and returned to circle her, making her flinch away from their swooping, fanged grins before spinning to frantically snap at one that came too close.<em>Stay AWAY,</em>she wordlessly screamed at the next one, and simultaneously, the little room in the ship's hold went magically manic.<br/><br/>Dean and Donovan had already experienced the fox's occasional and mostly unintended outbursts, so there was likely little doubt where the rolling energy originated this time. It was potent enough to also manifest as an unseen but very physical, heated wave that caused the entire boat to list, and the hammocks swayed and the ship's timbers groaned as it righted again, sounding much like the so-called safehouse that had so recently collapsed over their heads. The collar Donovan had stored on his person lit up, every jewel aglow, and the temperature below decks was suddenly balmy.<br/><br/>Even as the effects reverberated like a struck cymbal inside every nearby mind, Aza had no interest in hanging around to see the results or if they differed from the last time. She made another scurrying run for the doorway, paws slipping on the wet, tilting boards. Dean could think of her as a coward all he liked. Large men with knives and inhuman powers had the luxury of being<em>brave</em>; small foxgirls with cutesy magics had to be more concerned with self-preservation and avoiding mixed-species sex.