Junie screams.
It's not your usual scream either. It's the kind that rips out of your lungs like it's been scraped raw by glass. The sound echoes, high-pitched, jagged, and piercing through the chaos like a fire alarm nobody can turn off.
Heidi can't believe what she's seeing. Her eyes widen, her wolf brain roaring in disbelief even as blood splatters her muzzle. Junie's arm… her arm—is gone. It's not scratched or nicked. It's gone. Severed clean like a doll limb popped out of its socket, except there's no neatness to the spray of crimson gushing from the stump.
Heidi's wolf snarls in denial, hackles bristling, but the truth is painted across the labyrinth floor in a hot, slick puddle. Junie collapses to her knees, clutching at the space where her arm used to be, wailing.
