Solomon and Declan crashed against a menagerie of jagged rocks as they tumbled down the side of a deep gorge.
Within seconds, they are out of sight of the academy. The rocky walls of their current landscape obscure their vision irrevocably.
Declan feels a pain so desperate that it causes black spots to dot his vision.
He struggles to look at his arm and the giant hole in his bicep where Solomon's horn has pierced him.
The rest of his arm isn't much better. It is badly broken, bruised, and mangled. It is a miracle that it is even still attached.
But Declan has no time to lie around complaining.
Solomon is already getting up. And unlike him, he is absolutely no worse for wear.
His armor, his damned unsettling armor, has developed eyes. They stare at Declan unblinkingly and send a brutal chill down his spine.
Solomon's hooves stamp on the rocky soil. His glowing eyes settle on Declan's crumpled form, and against all expectations, he actually smiles in his beastly form.
