"Dulce!" Kath'tan called to him, his voice holding more concern than anger. "Do you really want to die?"
Dulce turned his back to the Hellhound and held his arms out in a protective gesture, "It's weak and hurt, and I can't die..." He mumbled stubbornly underneath his breath.
It had taken him almost a full year to finally summon his pet; sure, it was far more enormous than he had been expecting, but he would find a way around that.
The sheer size of the Hellhound kept the Demons away. Captured Hellhounds were hostile to Demons, with good reason. And this one had a limiter around its neck, which were magically imbued shackles that forced Hellhounds to remain in their Hound form.
They were then used as war steeds. A single Hellhound could swing a battle in an army's favor.
But this Hellhound was incredibly strange, Hellhounds never grew this big, and it almost seemed like this one had been about to be captured. It was no more than a youth.
