With seven more wolfstags than we’d planned, we needed to pray that Percral and his team arrived quickly. Regardless, we were in a disadvantageous position, being matched basically one for one, and we had several of the least combat ready of the pack with us. We needed to thin the pack as quickly as possible, and I couldn’t completely concern myself with the rest of the pack’s safety. After all, I’d said to trust those around us. Behind me, I heard Shemira scream in challenge to one of the flanking wolves, and Brutus turned to that same side and bulled into the next wolfstag. I whirled to the opposite side to give support and continue the slaughter.

One down, so many to go.

I stopped thinking, instead giving myself to the press, the insanity of this battle. The nearest wolfstag was pressing the attack on one of the smaller males, a convert of Shemira’s, and the keelish was losing badly. The wolf had caught the keelish’s tail somehow and was lifting it up in the air for another of the canines to begin to tear into my subordinate. Before the combination could be completed, though, I punched my left arm forward, as hard as I could muster. My claws, having been recently trained on the unforgiving and unbelievably tough scales of Redael’s hands, punctured the soft flesh of the wolfstag with ease, and my fingers passed between his ribs until my wrist was finally stopped by the bones.

My prey gasped, the air punched literally from his lungs as my claws tore through his innards without any resistance. The wolfstag let my fellow keelish fall from his jaws, and as he collapsed to the ground, I pulled my arm out with a shower of blood flicking from my hand. As its companion fell and died, the other wolfstag began to second guess its decision but my recently rescued companion leapt onto the wolfstag’s back and began tearing at whatever he could reach.

The wolfstag reared back and tried to smash its antlers against its aggressor, but the moment its front feet left the ground, I had my opening and, with both hands, punched into its exposed throat and chin. My left arm severed part of its windpipe and spine, but my right arm punched through the soft bottom of the jaw, through the harder roof of the wolfstag’s mouth, and then into and through its brain. As the body went limp, I again lifted the corpse, but this time, instead of throwing it, I used the body as a massive club and smashed it down on a nearby wolfstag’s back. There was a satisfying crunch of bones breaking, either from the corpse or my target, but I didn’t care. The throes of [Bloodlust] were beginning to take complete control of me and I immediately rushed to the next victim.

The wolfstags were beginning to notice my rampage, and as one tried to get distance from me, I whirled and tossed the body of its packmate into its face. He tried to get away from me, but I, remembering what Redael had done to me, continued into a spin and smashed my heavy tail into his thin front legs. Both broke, and I left the crippled foe for another to finish off.

With a moment of clarity, I channeled all the magic left in my sonilphon and pushed it to my throat. After a moment of preparation, maybe two seconds, I was ready and screamed to all who could hear, “VICTORYYY!” with the influence of [Innervating Address].

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Scattered cries of “Victory!” echoed from all around me and on the opposite side of the wolfstags. The reinforcements had arrived and began to tear into the exposed and weakened flanks of our prey with heightened aggression and power. With my [Bloodlust]’s mounting insanity, I rushed into the press of battle and literally leapt into action, jumping onto an unsuspecting wolfstag’s back and bearing it down to the ground, where it was set on by another keelish.

I couldn’t remember the rest of the battle in specifics, just flashes. Me leaping onto a wolfstag’s flanks, ripping and tearing with all four limbs and my jaws at the same time. Foire darting below a particularly large specimen as I grappled with its antlers and jaws, then Foire disemboweling that same wolfstag. Shemira and Sybil working together to fell another of the wolves, before Shemira was blindsided and ripped away by a flashing pair of jaws. Sybil leaping to Shemira’s support. Percral roaring a challenge directly in a wolfstag’s face before both smashed together in a tornado of flashing fangs and claws. Brutus’s screams in the background, filled with pain and rage.

Several casualties on the keelish side. I didn’t know if they survived, but I continued my nearly mindless assault. My fangs wetted in blood. Fur caught in my mouth. My arm hurt, ignored it. Twice, a wolfstag caught my tail and began to drag me away, they were killed. One tried to flee the slaughter, and I leapt excitedly onto it. Finally, as the madness induced by [Bloodlust] surged to something almost beyond my control, I dismissed it. Finally, I saw the brutal scene.

I hadn’t brought the pack here for a hunt. I’d brought them for vengeance, and we had extracted that manifold. As I counted, twenty five wolfstag corpses laid haphazardly around the clearing, and the final two were being executed by two groups of keelish. Nine keelish bodies laid around the clearing, and I couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead, but Vefir was ministering to another three while Foire seemed to be checking on the nine laying about. As I watched, he checked one body and quickly dismissed it before moving on. The second body he checked was worth bringing back to Vefir’s attention, which he did before moving on.

My body was sticky with blood and viscera. Both of my hands were caked with it, and I could hardly move my fingers with the congealing blood filling every gap in my scales. My face was sure to be just as filthy as my hands, as I could feel the thickening of the liquid covering what felt to be every inch of me. My right shoulder was throbbing with every heartbeat, but it seemed that I hadn’t done any real damage to it, just strained the already damaged muscles there. The only “wounds” I seemed to have sustained were the bite marks all along my tail.

The smallest and weakest among us, though, seemed to have received the brunt of the damage from the wolfstags. They had focused on those they considered easy targets, and had focused on eliminating them as quickly as possible, and now that I looked closer, I was sure at least three of the felled keelish were dead and beyond any hope of resuscitation

Regardless of any casualties, as I looked over the field of prey, of food that we had acquired for ourselves, of this difficult fight we had been victorious in… I felt no regret, only pride.