Smoked glass.
Sunlight glinted off the backs and necks of several creatures. Patches of layered scales instead of hide.
This changed everything. Slow, stupid, and clumsy meant nothing if he couldn’t damage them.
Three blue wolves approached, splitting up as they closed in. They circled the hoard of curs, two moving clockwise, the larger, counterclockwise.
The defectives made clumsy attempts to attack. Stumbling when the wolves crossed paths, unable to bite two at once. The wolves tightened their circle until the defectives bunched together like bison.
While there was no voice for Nox to hear, he had the oddest feeling the Fenrir spoke to the Anubis.
Nox didn’t fight when the Anubis pushed to join the blues. With each pass, Nox found himself focusing on parts of the defectives, not the whole.
First, the ones who showed no sign of the armor, then those who showed the least. They seemed to have mouths in odd places, even bulging growths.
Second heads, if Johnathan was right.
The Anubis rumbled and the blue wolves echoed it, their sky-colored eyes flared with stars.
Without warning, the tight group of defectives erupted, lunging in a starburst formation, snatching up the blues in their massive jaws.
One latched onto Nox’s front shoulder, another his thigh, putting him in the center of a deadly game of tug-of-war. His hip dislocated, and the long bone splintered. Nox’s rear leg was ripped away. The one locked onto Nox’s shoulder dragged him away as he kicked and slashed the strange armor protecting its face and neck.
A gap in the plating where its head connected to its neck flashed the flex of muscles as it ground its jaws.
Nox curled his remaining back leg close to his body, used the defective’s grip to gain purchase, and jammed his long prehensile toes against the creature’s jaw. He flexed his claws, piercing the cur’s skull and cleaved through the bones.
The animal let go, and Nox crammed his other hand into its throat. He twisted the creature’s head, shattering the smoked glass. A fan of blood followed its detached head to the ground.
The Anubis hummed in a way Nox had never felt before. He turned.
The blue wolves struggled in the jaws of their attackers. Then in a nearly synchronized act, they imitated what the Anubis had done, detaching the heads of the defective curs.
Youaretalking to them.
Which meant Luca was right. The creature did have a language, one the Fenrir seemed to have no problem understanding.
The blue wolves regrouped, and the smaller curs bunched around the larger ones.
Which seemed counterproductive since the massive beasts could mow everyone down.
The Goliath-sized animals shuffled around on stiff limbs and with their spines and necks arched, leaving their heads in a defensive position.
Either that or they couldn’t lift them.
Sunlight glinted off the scalelike armor under the thin patches of coat down their backs, over their shoulders, and chest.
Every time the animals shifted their weight, the plates ground together.
Since you’re willing to talk to the Fenrir, tell them armor means a limited range of movement. Movement means limited or no armor.
The blue wolves rotated their ears. The largest glanced in Nox’s direction.
Images of blue wolves tearing apart the smaller defectives flicked through Nox’s thoughts. Then the largest of the defectives, alone, bursting with particles.
Right. They take the small ones, we get the super-sized.
A curtain of black threads swarmed the Anubis’s limbs, packing on size. Its bones shifted with an echoing pop. Its jaw elongated. Its spine stretched.