Since he was just regaining consciousness he just shove the thought away thinking it was his head feeling fuzzy, he stared at the bloodied Eryndor dangling from the monster's grip, and a single strand of white hair reverting to black, signaling the collapse of an unimaginable power. He turned his gaze, still clouded by pain, to the small, gelatinous form of Gloop, who was merely using it's slimy body to stick with the tree, watching the devastating loss.
"Slime," Van Leon rasped, his voice rough and unused. "What happened here? What is he doing?"
