"Don't you want to be strong?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. "Strong enough that you're never the unlucky one again?"
Her voice came out sharp, cold. "I just want you dead."
I didn't flinch. I nodded slowly.
"Then become strong," I said. "I'll make you strong."
The words came out before I could stop them, like a pact I hadn't meant to offer. Like some twisted form of mercy.
What the hell am I doing?
I barely had time to finish the thought before a wet, guttural growl pulled my attention elsewhere.
I turned.
And there it was—the lightning leopard, crawling out of the crater, dragging itself forward with trembling limbs. Its body was torn open in several places, patches of fur burned away, blood seeping from its mouth, and matting the orange of its coat. One of its front legs was twisted at an unnatural angle, and yet—somehow—it kept moving.
Ohh… it wasn't dead.
