Winter: Paxton and Davian
Davian resisted the urge to shrink back when his brother stepped forward. He expected violence and even braced himself to be attacked, which would have been Paxton's right as a higher rank responding to Davian's actions. Instead, Paxton's voice cut deeper than any fists to the mouth or claws to the throat would have.
There it was. They'd kill Ambriel. Davian knew it all along, but hearing his higher ranking brother say it to him somehow made it more real. More like an inevitable thing than a dangerous possibility. Davian's heart clenched and he quickly scanned the room for Ambriel, not seeing him. Slaughter him. They wouldn't just kill him, they'd cut him down, ruin him, and then run him through.
Davian's face drained of color. He drew himself up one last time in determined rebuttal, pointed a clawed finger at Paxton, but no words came. Paxton was absolutely right, and while Davian had long ago accepted that he'd be killed by demons or hunters - and Hell, why not angels, too? - the thought of the demons slaying Ambriel was too much to bear. What was he even thinking? He'd lead Ambriel straight to his death and it would be all his fault.
He shook his head sharply, hands gripping his chopped stumps of horns, and shut his tear filled eyes tight. The black tail came up and coiled around his own wrist and Davian turned and ran away from Paxton.