The abomination stepped out of the shadows calmly, towering over the rest, its crimson fur threaded with glowing runic scars. Its eyes locked onto Damon with chilling clarity, lips pulling back to reveal elongated fangs.
"Blood sucker," it growled. "You reek of weakness. You should not have stepped in here. You do not belong in this battlefield."
So this one can even talk? Damon smiled thinly. "So maybe I will leave?"
The abomination grinned, revealing a cruel glint in his eyes. "Leave? What are you going to do when you leave? Your entire life will be plagued by weakness and mediocrity. You will crawl back to whatever hole you came from, forever wondering what it felt like to stand on a real battlefield."
The werevampires around it laughed, low and feral, their blood auras flaring in resonance with their leader's malice.
Damon tilted his head slightly, as if genuinely considering the words. "Hm," he said after a pause. "That does sound inconvenient."
