(Centipede's POV) D-I-N-G-O

[Centipede POV]

*El primo está en problemas.* (Cousin is in trouble.)

He watched the fight from the trees above. His patrona (boss) said not to join yet. Why not? Cousin was obviously outnumbered. Yet, the small black cat insisted on waiting.

The enemies shifted into their animal characteristics. Yellow ears and tails appeared. Their nails and teeth extended out. They paced around him in an attack pattern. It was a calculated performance.

*Dingos. Ese es el alfa.* (Dingos. That one is alpha.)

The large male in the center was double the size of everyone there. He might even be strong enough to transform completely into a dingo.

One of the dýrs lunged forward, but Hyeon punted them away. Each dingo would take a turn to nip, bite, or scratch at him without giving him a chance to get up. This went on for some time. Their goal was to make him tired before striking for real.

The air grew warmer by a few degrees. The rise was quite sudden, so it made the dogs pause. Watery heat waves radiated off of Hyeon, like a mirage on a road when it was too hot. He winced painfully and clutched his head.

But the pain wasn't from a headache nor the minor wounds. It was from the inside. The soul. When he opened his eyes, his irises glowed brighter than the dingos'. The outside temperature was like early spring. Snow melted into a mushy mess.

*¿Ahora?* (Now?), the still-nameless spirit thought to little patrona. The purring cat finally released him.

He jumped down from the tall tree and landed perfectly on his feet. The centipede head on the opposite side of his tail clicked its pincers. Spit trickled down. When walking with a ghostly silence, the hard segments on his arthropod appendage snapped into place like a scorpion. His other head hissed in excitement.

The closest dingo dýr stopped and spun around at the sound. "Who's there?"

The demon-turned-spirit clawed at his own face with vile happiness. He laughed hysterically.

"El diablo." (The devil.)