A shadow fell like lead over her, blotting out the sunlight and casting shadows into her world.
Looking up over her shoulder, Sascha let go of the wilted basil bud that she was trying to revive with her mana.
Like a giant, he towered over her. Askeladd was too big, his aura too imposing and mostly suffocating. His presence was a taste on her tongue that did not stop disturbing her and that little by little became an acquired taste.
She looked away, her heart pounding, her blood suddenly hot. She glanced around her and as always the entourage of pixies was gone. They already had an instinctive fear of the fenrir, but after Askeladd destroyed part of their Domain and turned it into a mere Reserve ... well, their fear had risen to indiscriminate heights.
Even Jade gave the wolf two looks.
However, in Sascha's eyes they were ... "Cowards."
