  As she watched the grand formâs shoulders jerk and move with its aggressive motions, a thought pondered in her mind. Had this creature too been a lowly man at some point? An innocent soul that fell prey to the lies and deceit of the Healing Church? Or had it clawed its way into this world in that disturbing physique? Neither options brought about hope. Such musings best left unheeded for the time being. How foolish it would be to allow such trivialities to cloud her mind as its piercing red glare fell upon her.
  Evelyn dropped listlessly to her side, eyes aglow with execrable curiosity. This creature surely was capable of barbarous assaults. Long, malformed claws that seemed linked into the fur crackling with the static. Giving it an ominous aura. One she did not fully wish to come into contact with. The girl had avoided such sensations thus far; sheâd very much like to continue that record. Sheâd lost sight of the hunter. A dour expression crossing her features as her heeled boots took a few preemptive steps backward. Though her gaze refused to leave the creature that now seemingly loomed over her. Calamitous. This entire idea had been brought about by her idiotic decision and here she was, preparing to pay the price it seemed.
  Silently, her hand came to where her chikage hung diligently at her side. Ever prepared to taste blood: whether it be her own or anothers. The deep, resounding growl that emitted from its throat gave a small shiver through her spine. Curls upon her shoulders giving a slight bounce at the motion. Its cry certainly served its purpose.
  A malicious smile - one reserved for hunts - spread over her lips as the hunter sprang forth. His weapon barred and sinking into the flank of the beast. As its attention ( and barred jaws ) turned to the hunter to his side, Bianca took this moment to prepare herself. Evelyn placed upon her thighâs holster as her chikage dipped into her blood. That familiar sensation sending a welcomed shiver through her bones as it came from its home with a violent swinging arch toward the beastâs side. Her own ichor connecting and tearing into the beastâs side; seeping in with its poisonous touch. Hopefully this thing proved susceptible to poison.
   The aggression felt palpable as it exuded from the abhorrent creature. Talons lashing wide, encompassing its surroundings in attempts to connect with them both. Narrowly avoiding such a wide sweep, her eyes noticed the sparks igniting in its wake. Joyous. So its fur left a trail to be felt as it glided through the air. Marvelous. As its attention turned sideways, Bianca gave a strong slash downward along its arm; biting into the fur. Had she found its skin? Honestly it seemed something sheâd not discover til it lay unmoving against the pavement.
Somehow, even though he could smell the freshly-shed blood in the air, the Hunter felt as if he was merely lucky in managing to reach the beastâs skin. Most of its form was matted fur made solid after an untold amount of nights of thick, congealing blood and scraps of unfortunate meals sinking between the strands of unkempt hair. Even now, clumps of fur stuck to the teeth of his weapon, still carrying the electric charge of what they were torn from as he felt the skin on his hand tingle and the hairs on his arms rise.
The Hunter, far too preoccupied with keeping his hide intact from the jumping arcs of energy and elongated nails-turned-claws, didnât see the sadistic grin on Biancaâs features, but it stood in stark contrast with the snarl that stretched across his masked face, somehow twisting the bloodied cloth covering him to fit over his grimace. Bloodshed manifested hunger in him, bringing out an angry savagery demanding sustenance in the form of flying gobs of blood and mouthfuls of shredded flesh. There was no room for glee or excitement outside of hunger and anticipation for the addictive sensation of tearing through flesh.
The beast shrieked out its frustration and pain as the toxic blood from Biancaâs chikage sent liquid fire running rampant through its veins. Two kinds of tainted blood mixed in that instant, and the result was an internal war inside the beast as its body began to gradually tear itself apart trying to expunge the foreign substance.
But even as the Cainhurst blood ate away at the beastâs flesh, a surge of adrenaline and blinding hatred drowned out the pain and inspired a desperate frenzy in its addled mind. If it was to fall this day, it would do so with one last victim impaled on its talons and one last mouthful of blood in its stomach.
With a shriek that sounded far too close to a human scream, the beast lunged at the first living thing it saw, leaving crackling trails in the air and gnashing its jutting fangs together as it tried to snatch the Hunterâs neck in its maw. A reflexive jerk away from the mountain of teeth and fur saved the Hunter from a torn jugular, but the whiff of air he could feel through the layers of protective garb left him skipping a few heartbeats.
Outrage flashed through the Hunterâs mind in the instant, and as if the threat of death put anger in his heart instead of fear, he snarled aloud as his cleaver tore a red path across the beastâs face. He only caught a glimpse of its freshly-torn eye mingling with its own blood before it reeled back, screeching and thrashing, and he retreated in turn so a stray claw wouldnât catch him.
