The air was thick with tension, the weight of Drace's escape leaving the rulers in stunned silence. Morvane, however, didn't waste a second. Without hesitation, he unsheathed his dagger, slicing into his arm. The pain flared, but it was nothing compared to the urgency pounding in his chest.
Black smoke poured from the wound, swirling and solidifying into a hulking shadow beast with glowing crimson eyes. The place trembled under its presence, but Morvane paid no mind. He placed a hand on its smoky mane, steadying his breathing as the beast snarled.
"You can smell scents, right?" he asked, voice sharp and commanding. The beast let out a guttural growl, its nostrils flaring as it caught the faint traces of Drace's scent lingering in the air. "Good. Don't lose him."
Without waiting for any response from the rulers, Morvane leapt onto the beast's back. Its shadowy form rippled under him, yet it felt solid, familiar, like a piece of himself.
