FAMFRIT vs. Party Two: Theo/Div.
The blast of Waterja and the quake of the building behind them spurred Divina again to her feet. It was difficult to move her torso. Her new wounds threatened to split even further open with each slight rotation. But it could not be helped; she couldn't focus her mind enough to cast Drain, assuming she was lucid enough to even make her target in the heavy Mist. If the creature was receiving any damage at all, Deathbringer's leeching would suture her wounds enough to keep her together. Or not. The gamble was half the fun, and her own well-being didn't matter. A child's wail pierced the air.
Divina pushed herself back into the fray, following Finch's lead and going in with blow after merciless blow. Clang, clang, clang! The considerable strength of two rampaging Berserkers reverberated loudly in the night air.
Yet, despite the deafening uproar, it didn't take long for Divina to realize that Finch's screams were far from his usual battle cries. The language was chilling, guttural. She fought the beast, but she also fought her animal impulse to give Finch a wide berth. He was her brother-in-arms—no matter what anyone said, to her comrades she was unflinchingly loyal.
But what could she do? Now she could see this was not simply Enfire, and, for certain, the fury that gripped him was not Berserk either. "Stay with me, Finch," she gritted out, perhaps uselessly. Her words could have easily been lost to the winds's howling, the rain's rumbling, as the storm swept through the buildings and battered the dilapidated rooftops.