Blood. Salvia tasted blood and snapped wildly, pink foam falling from her lips. She was in a rage, oblivious of the world around her. The world was full of white-noise and unfamiliar scents. One hind leg slammed down as she thrashed, and Salvia felt something break under its weight. A stick? A bone? She didn’t care. White teeth cut through the air and struck low, no longer going after the now-protected neck but towards a vulnerable side. Pull, slash—each bite tore deep gashes into the girl’s side. Holy blood fell on dark earth and stained the tiger’s face further.
Sal! Sal stop it! So she did remember. Fury boiled in the Eternity’s blood. She remembered her but not Pandemic!? She was a liar; she was a coward. Her teeth ripped deep into the side of the white wolf, seeking to rip her asunder like the stupid animal she was.
A new sound joined the cacophony. Salvia lifted her head and roared, bellowing into the night. Some shadow, tall and unwelcome, loomed. The girl snarled and leapt forward, only to be struck in the nose by a sharp silver claw. Blood filled her senses and returned them to a base instinct. Without hesitation she fled, rushing into the night and back down the mountain. It would not be worth it to fight a man who carried silver and had the capacity to call down this strange place on her.
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