Among them, one man in particular gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He had already lost several brothers tonight.
He had watched his carefully chosen group fall under the claws of lion, panther, strange fire, and now this ridiculous pink object that cut ropes and flesh like it was nothing. His hatred boiled in his chest.
He had thought the stories about the goddess of the lion tribe were exaggerated. Now he had to admit they were real.
She was beautiful even with snow in her hair, her belly round with unborn beasts, eyes sharp and merciless. She killed with no hesitation, using a pretty toy in her hand.
He hated her.
"She is a pregnant female," he thought viciously as he moved along the wall, avoiding another gust of wind by ducking low. "If she dies, this whole place will break."
He signaled to two of his remaining men, then waited until the defenders were occupied in front.
