Mina hesitated as she reached for her polearm. Her entire left arm was bruises even after healing, thanks to a nasty encounter with a doom lord the day before.

It felt like her entire everything was bruises, really. Mina had always fought in cat form, and yet…she hadn’t really fought on this scale before. Her first campaign had been that against Deathwing, and even then she’d been stationed in the infirmary more than anything.

Jander’s concern (and Jamethera’s, and Unaara’s) hadn’t escaped her notice.

But like hell she was staying in the infirmary this time. If she thought Deathwing had upset her, oh, that level of rage was a flimsy wet paper thing compared to the ball of hatred and sorrow that fueled her now.

Literally ripping open the throats of the Legion was so viscerally satisfying. But stressing out her loved ones was…not.

Her fingers brushed across her staff. This? Yes. Not for healing, no (well, yes, when she needed to, but). She could perhaps learn to be content with maiming her enemy from afar.

Her druid robes whispered their way down the stairs and she leaned on the staff when she reached the bottom. “Better?”

She didn’t clarify, but then, she didn’t need to. When Jander looked at her, his relief was palpable. “Yes.”

The last step was cleared with a hop. “Time to moonfire some demons, then.”

Author Ambrosine
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