After about thirty minutes, the fight finally ended, or rather, the massacre.
The sand was blackened by blood. Shredded bodies littered the ground. The smell was heavy, almost suffocating.
Seeing that they could no longer resist, the desert dogs finally retreated. The survivors withdrew growling, dragging their wounds, disappearing behind the dunes.
Silence gradually fell again, leaving the four of them there admiring the carnage they had just caused.
The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. With it, the temperature dropped quickly. The stifling heat of the day gave way to the cold.
"We should make a fire…" Nox suggested while looking at the sky.
"You should rather go clean yourself up, it's impossible to stink that much!" Julian declared, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He wasn't exaggerating.
Nox was in a pitiful state. Black blood was drying on his face, his arms, his clothes. Pieces of flesh were still stuck to his claws. The smell was unbearable.
