The blood trickling down Scathach's shoulder evaporated in black clouds, like smoke carried by the wind. Her body hung in Strax's hand, but her eyes… her eyes were still the same: steady, uneasy, assessing him as if testing the ferocity of a caged beast.
Suddenly, the silence was broken.
Crimson runes surged beneath her skin, like living tattoos. They ignited one by one, in ancient, complex patterns that pulsed to the rhythm of a heart that simply refused to give in. The ancient scars on her body glowed, responding to the runes like conduits, spreading the energy up her mangled arm.
Strax narrowed his eyes, his hand tightening its grip on her neck.
But then came the sound.
