“Friisht kreerlk chreelkt Dulvroc take the furry bastard…” I was using every curse I could think of in every language I knew as I sprinted over to my fallen friend. Looking down, Took shuddered and struggled for breath, but she was still alive.

“Victory… by–”

“I’ll knock you unconscious myself before I let you finish that.” I cut her off as I turned to Ishtar. “Run down to the swarm. Get Alaster and Vefir to start coming up here as we descend.” Ishtar stood, frozen for a moment. “GO!” I roared at her and she startled before nodding and sprinting down the way towards the valley where the swarm was.

“Ok. Ok. Silf, I need you to press hard on the wound. The entire wound. Keep the blood from all running out. Joral, try to clear a way so we can move more smoothly and quickly. Isnanna, cut the densest, longest, cleanest fur you can from the nearest goat. Now, Iituli, your part is the most important.” My son looked at me, trusting. “I need you to burn the wound shut.”

For a moment, Iituli looked at me, unable to understand. Then, as my words sunk in, he began to shake his head. “No, no, no, I can’t do that. I’ll kill her.”

“No, you’ll save her life. It’ll keep her from bleeding out as we carry her down.”

“I… I.. I’ll hurt her. I can’t control my flames like that. It’ll burn everything.”

“No, you’ll be fine. Now do it and save her life.”

With a shuddering breath, Iituli conjured up a flame, too weak to sear Took’s wound shut. “Hotter!” A small increase, but still not enough. “HOTTER DULVROC TAKE YOU!” Suddenly a gout of flame, uncontrolled. I hissed my frustration, and Iituli began hyperventilating, panicking. I made up my mind, and, without thinking any further, extended my claws as far as I could, prayed to Nievtala this would work, and plunged my right hand’s fingers into the flames.

I knew that it would be agonizing, but was praying that my claws would hold up in the heat and that they could cauterize the wounds well enough. Iituli began to quench the flames, but I barked out, “NO! Keep it up, try to concentrate the flame!” Before long, those hopes were drowned out in agony, my fingertips initially withstanding the heat, but as my claws became superheated themselves, so too did the heat conduct itself deeper into my bones.

This consuming, mind-ripping pain was different from when my shoulder had been ripped apart. That was a throbbing agony, one that had dulled my senses of everything else. This pain kept amplifying itself long after I thought it had hit the final threshold for torturous torment. I could feel my skin crackle under my scales, my blood beginning to boil and bubble just like my skin that wasn’t exposed to the heat directly, my bones aching and my mind couldn’t focus on anything else than the burning hell that was my hand.

I could take the pain no longer and removed my hand from the flames as I called for Silf to move and give me access to the wound. He scrambled away and I saw the ripped flesh and a deep gouge that carried through three of Took’s ribs, exposing a lung, shuddering with her every breath. The second the pressure came off, blood began to pool in the cavity, flowing freely from a large artery that was exposed and torn through. Without another second’s thought, I pressed a claw against the artery and pressed it against Took before she jerked uncontrollably in reaction to the searing additional pain.

Took, the never complaining and ever stoic, whimpered. I thought I heard her whisper something about Oncli as I gestured for Silf and a couple others to hold her down and prevent her from writhing away from the searing, healing pain. My second claw pressed into the artery and again Took jerked away, but the four bodies holding her down prevented her from moving enough to prevent the cauterization from happening. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils, and again Took cried out in pain. She was losing consciousness, and in her delirium, she lacked her usual self-control. With my other two claws I seared the most afflicted areas I could, but it wasn’t everything. Isnanna appeared, her arms full of long white fur.

“Silf, pack the wounds tight with the fur then retain that pressure on it. We’re moving now. Foire, help him carry Took, keep her from twisting and moving around as best as you can. Keep her from bleeding out. Now go. Keep an eye on whatever the best route is.”

I couldn’t focus on the journey after that–my mind was too consumed with the agony from my hand and occupied with trying to keep myself steady with my burst eardrums. Iituli was continuously mumbling apologies to me, which I nodded my head to accept while continuing to hustle down the mountain as best as I could. Foire was quietly talking to Took about how Treel had died in this way, so Took didn’t need to. It didn’t make sense to me, but maybe it was just my mental state. The rest of the pack was quiet but hurried, following Joral’s path as best as they could while Took mumbled in pain, nothing that made any sense.

I focused as best as I could on Took’s condition, and, sure enough, she went silent about halfway down the slope.

“Took, stay with me! Talk!”

Nothing.

“Took! Say something!”

Silence.

“TOOK!”

“Vic…tory…” Then nothing more.

No no no, wake up! I wanted to stop, to try something, but it was best to get her even a second sooner to one of our two healers. “HURRY!”

It was an excruciatingly long ten or so minutes before we came in contact with Vefir and Second. Vefir was visibly panicked, guided by Joral and Isnanna. Second came not far behind, panting but putting in obvious effort. We settled Took onto the ground as both began to push their magic into her unresponsive body.

One minute… Two minutes… Five minutes… No response.

I could feel tears beginning to form at the corners of my eyes. Another of my pack, my friends… dead. With an effort of will, I began to call magic to my throat, wanting to scream my rage to the skies, when–

“Victory… by fang… and blood.”