- There are no heroes. -
He snags at her clothes, doing what he can in the moment to avoid flesh as he yanks her away from the banshee's cries. She's not heavy for him in this shift, and his larger form manages to lift her from the ground enough to move with some semblance of speed, intending to get them as far away from the sound as possible. The fabric barely holds, straining against his teeth while he drags her flailing form, holes punching through in some parts in exchange for the grip he finds.
Still, her frantic movements prove to be an obstacle, his paws nearly tripping over her as she yanks his head with her struggles. He lets out a frustrated growl, ears pinned to block the sound of screaming (from both banshees) and eyes fixed on the bend in the path where he can get them both out of range, leaving the creature in peace.
But Colt has other plans.
A hand reaches around his head, the sharpened tip of an arow rushing towards his golden eye with lethal intent. He doesn't have time to think. Instinct has him skidding to a halt, head whipping to the side as Grimm releases her into a heap on the ground, putting distance between himself and the sharp object that would have blinded him. His rumbling growl cuts through the wails, a warning that's echoed in the tension he wears. The sound doesn't stop, shifting without pause as he takes human form. It presses from his bared teeth as he stands over her, anger rolling off him in waves, eyes wild from the rush and pinned on her.
Still, her frantic movements prove to be an obstacle, his paws nearly tripping over her as she yanks his head with her struggles. He lets out a frustrated growl, ears pinned to block the sound of screaming (from both banshees) and eyes fixed on the bend in the path where he can get them both out of range, leaving the creature in peace.
But Colt has other plans.
A hand reaches around his head, the sharpened tip of an arow rushing towards his golden eye with lethal intent. He doesn't have time to think. Instinct has him skidding to a halt, head whipping to the side as Grimm releases her into a heap on the ground, putting distance between himself and the sharp object that would have blinded him. His rumbling growl cuts through the wails, a warning that's echoed in the tension he wears. The sound doesn't stop, shifting without pause as he takes human form. It presses from his bared teeth as he stands over her, anger rolling off him in waves, eyes wild from the rush and pinned on her.
- In life, the monsters win. -
Grimm
