The towering figure of the werewolf began to shift and expand, its already fearsome form evolving into something far more dangerous. Haze and Davion stood frozen, their eyes locked on the grotesque transformation. Despite the apparent vulnerability of the beast during its evolution, they held their ground, wary of the unknown attacks it might unleash if provoked. Every instinct told them that rushing in would be suicidal.
Behind them, Shimall hurried to where Aelorin lay sprawled on the ground, his body battered and bruised from the earlier skirmish. She skidded to a halt beside him, concern etched deeply into her face.
"Are you okay, Aelorin?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. It was a question so obvious and ill-timed that Aelorin couldn't help but frown despite his pain.
Without waiting for an answer, Shimall extended her hands over him, her palms glowing with a soothing green light.
{Healing Mana detected.}
