They ended up back to back without needing to say a word.
Rain slicked the ground beneath their feet, turning churned earth and blood into the same dark, unstable surface. Trafalgar adjusted his stance slightly, Maledicta angled low, while Karon held position behind him, blade in hand, shoulders squared.
Eight lycans had them surrounded.
Two of them remained at range, positioned higher up along broken stone and fallen structures, old-style rifles already braced and aimed at the space between Trafalgar and Karon. The other six advanced in a loose semicircle, claws flexing, weapons raised, closing the distance a step at a time.
It was not a comfortable situation.
Dodging projectiles while keeping six close-range fighters in check would demand attention on too many fronts at once, especially with rain dulling footing and visibility. Trafalgar took it in with a quick scan, not letting his gaze linger anywhere for too long.
