Calming Eastiel down required a considerable effort.
Oathran grabbed him and launched them both into the sky. The golden lion thrashed in his grip, clawing at the air, his roars echoing across the sky above the medical camp below.
But Eastiel was too wild, too consumed by the rampage, and he twisted free, plummeting toward the earth. Arkai, still in his massive black werewolf form, caught him before he hit the ground.
The impact drove them both into the mud, and Arkai spun, using his weight and momentum to pin the lion beneath him.
Eastiel thrashed again, his claws raking furrows in the blood-soaked earth, his jaws snapping at anything within reach.
And before long, Oathran descended and added his own weight to the effort, the two of them holding their brother down by sheer force.
"Eastiel!"
Cecilia chased after them, a tranquilizer gun in her hand. She raised it, hesitated, then lowered it again.
