Chapter 56
DeliriousAbsol
*Crazy Absol Noises*
56 - A Blazing Battle
Ilana perched in the branches of a large sycamore, her flock gathered around her. They’d been reduced significantly by that whimsicott. It had been a battle they’d never win. He’d turned psychotic, tearing her murkrow to ribbons. Ilana hadn’t seen much of the world outside the breeding pens, but she would never have expected a whimsicott to behave like that. They were too stocky, their claws too blunt. Yet he’d made short work of her girls.
The remaining murkrow huddled around her and spread out over the sycamore’s ancient branches. Her numbers had been close to a hundred. Now she had about forty murkrow left in her army. They were dropping drastically. She’d fled from the mountain, taking refuge in the low stretch of rocky hills known as Onix Tail Peaks. She needed to come up with a new plan of action. The whimsicott was too much of a risk. Reclaiming him couldn’t be done by her flock alone. She needed more power. She’d hoped the weavile they’d seen the night before would pass this way. She could ask them to assist her. With their ice-type moves, they could freeze that little grass-type and he’d be easy pickings. Plus, if they got too close, it would be their lives not her murkrow.
The sound of a bell made her raise her head. One of her murkrow cawed and Ilana turned her head to the left. Pushing his way through the ferns was the unmistakable form of a banette. Each step jingled as if he didn’t care who heard him. His mane was dishevelled with twigs and leaves jutting out of the tangled mess. His scarf was covered in burrs and thorns. He muttered to himself and Ilana strained her ears.
Something about scientists?
No, she can’t have heard that right.
She watched him for a moment, motioning for her flock to be silent. It was coming back to her now. Hadn’t she made a deal with Yurlik? Apprehend the stray assassin and he’d let her have more murkrow from the pens. Sure, the whimsicott was a priority target. But if she returned with Enigma, she’d release more murkrow. She could increase her flock’s strength and go and retrieve that whimsicott and earn Hydreigon’s respect.
Enigma was just one ghost. None of the moves in his arsenal could seriously harm a murkrow. It was forty against one. He didn’t stand a chance. A smirk tugged her beak and she straightened, ruffling her feathers to prepare for flight.
She raised her head and barked deep husky caws. Enigma fixed wide eyes on the sycamore as the flock rose from its branches. He took a step back and shadow energy radiated from his paw. He launched a shadow ball into the cloud of murkrow, which parted like water. Ilana barked again and the flock swooped in, surrounding the banette.
Enigma shouted and raked through the birds with his claws. It gave him enough time to slip into the shadows, leaving Ilana’s murkrow flapping in a confused cloud. Enigma leapt up behind them, beside the sycamore. One of the murkrow turned towards him. Her caw died in her throat as Enigma snatched her from the air and slammed her into the trunk of the tree.
Ilana let out a caw of distress, then quickly barked at her flock to move out of reach.
Enigma narrowed his crimson eyes. “Yurlik must be pretty desperate if he’s recruited girls into his flock.”
“We are not part of his flock!” Ilana shrieked. She turned her head left and right, speaking in husky caws that were alien to Enigma. “Girls! Scissor formation!”
The murkrow spread out and swooped back towards Enigma like a pincer with Ilana in the lead. The banette fired one shadow ball after the other, striking three of the birds head on. Ilana swerved to dodge the fourth and lashed out with her talons. Enigma melted into the floor as she plunged, so Ilana’s claws tore up the turf. She cursed loudly and jerked her head to listen for his bell.
Ilana turned in the air, trying to spot the elusive ghost. He was putting up a better fight than she’d expected.
A dry chuckle drew her eye to the canopy. Enigma perched on a narrow branch which creaked under his weight.
“I have to hand it to you,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. “You’re nothing like Yurlik. I mean, that fat honchkrow just sits on his butt and lets his flock do all the work. It’s kinda refreshing that you actually fight your own battles.”
Ilana tutted and narrowed a glare. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this, ghost.”
Enigma widened his eyes, feigning innocence. “I’m not trying to charm my way out of anything!”
One of the murkrow had moved up towards the tree. Ilana flicked her wing feathers. “Then get down here and fight!”
The murkrow had caught Ilana’s signal. She beat her wings together, whipping up a blade of air. The branch holding Enigma snapped from the tree. The banette gasped as his yell of surprise was strangled by the sudden fall. Ilana shot towards him, buffeting him in the ribs with her wings. Enigma landed with a grunt and a jingle against the sycamore’s knotted roots.
The honchkow cawed her instructions and the murkrow descended on him in a cloud of beating wings and shredding claws. Ilana paced around them, nodding with approval. It hadn’t been as easy as she’d have liked, but the battle had definitely gone in her favour. She opened her beak to call her murkrow back and froze.
Was that a laugh?
Dark claws tore through the cloud of murkrow in a spray of blood. Ilana let out a yell and leapt back, watching in horror as her murkrow fell one by one in a bloody heap. Enigma stood, flicking blood from his claws. The remaining murkrow fluttered around him with uncertainty and Ilana called them back. Most obeyed, but the ones that hesitated found themselves at Enigma’s mercy. He plucked from from the air and she yelped, her eyes wide with fear.
The banette’s face was twisted in a sinister grin. His eyes flashed with malice and he laughed as he raised the panicking murkrow by the neck.
Ilana rushed forwards, bringing her wings together. The blade struck Enigma in the chest, knocking him off his feet. The murkrow fluttered into the air in a disoriented, erratic pattern before she found her perch on a slender sapling. Ilana fastened her talons around Enigma’s throat, pinning him to the ground. She beat his head with her wings, desperate to wipe that grin off his wicked face. Yet he laughed, fixing her with one crimson eye. Blood filled the other but he didn’t appear to notice, or care.
Pain seared Ilana’s leg and she screeched, flapping away from him. Warm blood trickled over her scales and her leg hung limp beneath her. Enigma pushed himself to his feet, looking from Ilana to the uncertain murkrow hovering, waiting for instructions.
Then his eye rolled back in his head, and the banette slumped face-first to the floor.
A confused caw left Ilana’s throat. It was echoed by the murkrow as they landed around the banette. Ilana landed awkwardly, dragging her sore leg behind her. She spread her wings, moving her flock away from what she assumed was a trap. She nudged Enigma with her beak but he didn’t stir. Was this really happening? Only moments before he was acting as if her attacks were doing nothing to him.
She pressed her head against his back and was greeted by the soft beat of his heart. He was still alive. That should please Hydreigon. She just had to get him back first.
Ilana snorted and turned away from the banette. She glanced over the murkrow massacre, her heart breaking. Her eye fell on the murkrow lying limp at the base of the sycamore. Ilana dragged herself towards her and a soft, keening sound left her throat. She nudged the broken bird with her beak, getting no response. Ilana keened again and lowered her head. All of the fallen murkrow had died serving their duty. She would not forget them.
“Ilana?”
She turned towards the remaining murkrow.
“We should get him back before he wakes up,” said the smaller bird.
Ilana nodded and hobbled over to the banette. “I’ll carry him. The rest of you, keep watch in case he wakes up.”
The honchkrow fastened her claws around his neck and lifted him effortlessly into the air. Her bad leg hung limp beside him. They needed to make haste. She dread to think what he’d do to her if he woke before they reached the Shadow Lands.
...
Reshiram had insisted he didn’t need to sleep. The sun had set, plunging the land into darkness. The land beneath them seemed to vanish into some hidden void. Even the stars above them didn’t make Cleo feel any less unsettled. They travelled in silence, broken only by the steady roar from Reshiram’s tail flames. After a short while, he shut them out and slowed, his heavy wings oddly silent.
Cleo couldn’t help but fear the dragon needed rest. He’d had very little sleep and hadn’t long returned from his last journey to the mainland. He’d flown even further out, leaving the coast behind them. Despite the dangers of flying at night, it would make it easier to spot the Wildfire’s trail.
“You should all get some sleep.” Reshiram’s soft voice made Cleo almost leap out of her skin.
Spark sat up with a start in her lap and rubbed her groggy eyes. “Wha-?”
“You all need your rest,” Reshiram told them. “It won’t be long now before we encounter the Wildfires.”
“We won’t sleep,” said Faith. “Not while you’re pushing yourself ragged to help us.”
“I’m fine, Faith. Besides, it’s not my battle. It isn’t yours, either. Tyrix here, he needs his energy, and you need to be able to support him. Get some rest.”
“Well I don’t need telling twice,” said Tyrix. “I’m just scared I might fall off.”
“Don’t worry, friend,” said Reshiram. “I won’t let you.”
“Neither will I,” said Cleo. “If I notice you starting to fall, I’ll steady you with my psychic.”
Tyrix nodded and turned forwards, lowering his head to his chest. He kept a tight grip on Reshiram’s feathers, but before long Cleo saw it loosen. Despite that, he didn’t topple. But if she was going to keep an eye on him, that meant she couldn’t sleep herself. Soft snores came from her lap and she glanced down at Spark, once again asleep huddled in Reshiram’s warm, white feathers. Things seemed peaceful. A calm before the terrible storm they were flying right into.
Not for the first time, Cleo thought she spotted a flicker of orange on the horizon. Her heart leapt but it had vanished before she could pinpoint it. She’d dismissed it as her imagination before, but now she was fearing it was the work of the Wildfires. Deep in her imagination she could picture those wicked dogs spewing their flamethrowers into the sky, torching everything around them until it was black and lifeless. Flames almost as deadly as Yveltal’s life-draining beam. Petrified, ashen forests laid in the wake of Howlinger and his Wildfires. And amid them…
Cleo shook her head sharply before the horrid thoughts could form, focusing her attention on the world ahead. Stars dotted the sky, swirling into a thick streak above them. She’d seen the stars many times before, but from this height there was something magical about them. For a fleeting moment, she felt at ease.
At ease, under the stars, lying on her back in the swaying grass. Beside her was Mischief, nattering to Spark. She couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“I can see something.”
Snow splattered her face and she shook her ears, bringing herself back to the present. The odd taste in her mouth suggested she’d managed to drift off to sleep. Tyrix raised his head in front of her.
“Did you say something?” he grunted.
“Yes,” said Reshiram. “I can see fire, right there ahead of us.”
Cleo’s heart lurched. She looked past the typhlosion and her eyes widened. A flash of orange, stretching across the blackness miles ahead of them. It looked so tiny, yet she knew it would be devastating.
“It could take us a while to reach it,” said Reshiram. “I can’t go at full speed since my tail will be a beacon in this dark. But I’ll go as fast as I can. Hopefully we’ll catch them on the run.”
On the run…
Cleo licked her lips. On the run or not, the Wildfires would be a force to be reckoned with. She knew it wasn’t her fight, yet it still terrified her. If it went wrong, if Tyrix failed, then all of them may find themselves at the mercy of Howlinger’s deadly flames.
Everything felt alien to Cleo. They drew closer to the flames swiftly, yet the sun dyed the sky pink long before they could see the blaze. Smoke curled up from beyond a thick cluster of trees. They stood far ahead of them, beyond a trail that still glowed red with cinders. Scattered about the snow were trees that once towered proudly over the landscape but were now burnt black. Their branches still smoldered, raining down cinders and brittle bark that marred the once white snow. They led a devastating trail towards the cluster of trees, scattered with the bodies of fallen soldiers. Hills rose in lumpy points, the snow rapidly melting to reveal the bushes and thickets buried beneath. The hungry flames fought with the fear of their weakness and the desire to eat up the green plants they were forcing to surrender.
Then Cleo heard the screams. Faith tensed behind her, unconsciously digging her claws into Cleo’s hide. Spark’s whiskers crackled as the dedenne trembled in her lap, fluffing up Cleo’s fur with static. Cleo kept her yellow eyes on the inferno eating its way through the trees. Black shadows flit back and forth beyond them, moving further away from the oncoming dragon. The pack hadn’t seen them. They were trained on the fleeing pokemon, giving chase across the hills.
Tyrix cast a glance back at his new friends. “Don’t you worry. I’ll deal with Howlinger and his mutts. You lot hide somewhere safe with Reshiram.”
Safe? Cleo looked back up at the rapidly growing fire. The snow wasn’t a barrier for it. The flames melted it away then grabbed at everything they could. It was unnatural. Where was ‘safe’?
“What are you talkin’ about?” Spark crackled, setting Cleo’s fur even more on end. “We can’t just sit back and let you deal with this alone!”
Cleo’s heart leapt, forcing bile into her throat. “Spark, we can’t fight Howlinger…”
“We’ve been trained for this, Cleo,” Spark told her. “He’s a dark-type, right? We’ve got moves to deal with him now. And if worst comes to worse…” Spark puffed out her chest. “I can zap him.”
Tyrix’s muzzle creased with irritation and confusion.
“Spark, no.” Faith placed a paw on Cleo’s shoulder to look down at the dedenne. “We were told to find a fire-type. If we go in there, we won’t come out. I can’t stand up to Howlinger’s flames, and Cleo can’t stand up to his dark-type moves.” Faith looked up at the typhlosion. “This is Tyrix’s job. One he’s clearly honoured to perform.”
A toothy smile spread across Tyrix’s muzzle. “Aye, that I am. I should have given Howlinger a good hidin’ years ago. Now I’m gonna make him pay for all he’s done.” Tyrix clapped his paws together. “When you see Xerneas, please thank him for giving me this honour.”
Faith smiled, her violet eyes welling with tears. “I think he’ll want you to thank him yourself.”
Cleo swallowed back a sob. “Please come out of this alive.”
Tyrix said nothing as he turned his eyes back on the inferno. The sound of wood popping echoed like thunder. Those frantic cries had faded. A blood-curdling howl split the air and the lithe, dark shapes of the Wildfires took off over the snowy landscape.
Reshiram’s tail flared as he took off towards them. Flames spouted from Howlinger’s muzzle as he fired a flamethrower into the air. They hadn’t heard their pursuers, too enthralled in the thrill of their massacre. The burnt remains of a village flashed through the dancing flames and Cleo diverted her eyes. Just one glance had brought back the Sparkling Forest as fire ate its way through the little wooden tree-houses.
Howlinger howled again and the pack picked up their pace. Cleo saw with a jolt that this wasn’t some post-massacre frenzy. A manectric tore through a clump of bracken, scattering snow. Electricity leapt from his body, lighting up the ground with a blinding intensity. It didn’t slow the Wildfires. The manectric turned and fled, racing on ahead of the pack towards the woods. Howlinger barked something to his pack and tore after the electric wolf. The houndour forked off to the left and right, spraying flames behind them. They trailed a circle of fire through the trees, denying their prey the chance to back-track. Flames soon spread up the trees, burning away the canopy.
“Drop me here.” Tyrix tapped Reshiram on the shoulder. “I’ll go in. You stay outside.”
Reshiram nodded and turned towards the ground. He landed silently on all-fours and lowered himself for his passenger to dismount. Tyrix slipped from his back and landed with a soft thud.
Cleo opened her mouth to ask him if he would be okay, but she bit it back. Now wasn’t the time for doubt. She was certain this was the pokemon Xerneas had tasked them with to find. Instead, she said, “Thank you, Tyrix.”
The typhlosion smiled up at her. “Don’t have to thank me. I’m just doin’ my duty in this war. Now stay out of sight.”
Cleo remained on Reshiram’s back, watching as the typhlosion approached the burning woods.
“Take care, my friend,” said Reshiram as Tyrix walked straight through the wall of fire.
...
Heat rushed into Tyrix’s body as he walked through the flames into the woods. The houndour had rushed on ahead, their howls still echoing their pursuit of the manectric. Electricity arced through the canopy, lighting up the dense woodland. Tyrix strolled towards it through the blistering heat. Any other pokemon would have found it devastating, but it warmed through to the typhlosion’s old, tired bones.
Flames spewed through the trees, licking up the wet bark until they found their hold on the branches. Wood popped and cracked, deafening over the barks and howls of the houndour pack. Tyrix spotted them circling back through a clearing. It had once been a village, long since abandoned. The old buildings still stood, their rooftops sagging under the weight of melting snow. Flames danced in the gaping windows where the fire had managed to find a way into the damp, decaying wood.
The manectric was cornered beside one of the little houses, glaring up at the sneering houndoom with defiance. The smaller dogs surrounded the electric wolf, forcing him back until his rump brushed the flames. The manectric sucked in a hiss, then Howlinger barked his command. The houndour pack was on the manectric in an instant. A wave of snarling teeth and slashing claws.
“Howlinger!”
The houndoom looked up, ears pricked. His crimson eyes met Tyrix’s glare and a look of surprise crossed the canine’s features. It soon vanished as his lips curled back in a snarl. “You?”
Tyrix’s shout had come a second too late. The manectric’s yelps were swiftly silenced.
Tyrix gazed helplessly at the ravenous houndour then looked back to Howlinger. “Well. Don’t you look proud of yourself.” He waved a paw at the merciless dogs. “What is this? Does this make you feel big?”
“What? Purging the world of the weak?” Howlinger barked out laughter, which was echoed by the rest of his pack. “Oh, I know I’m stronger than them. Burning their homes to the ground proves it to them, not me.”
“And what about this?” Tyrix narrowed his eyes and nodded to the manectric, now abandoned by the dogs as they turned their attention on him. “Mindless murder?”
“One less rebel for Lord Hydreigon to worry about,” Howlinger spat.
Tyrix bared his canines as his spine stiffened. This houndoom was despicable. There wasn’t a single good bone in his body.
Howlinger met his challenge with a snarl of his own, raising his head and tail high. “What are you planning to do about it? Since you must have followed me for a reason. Is it a fight you want?” Howlinger barked a single laugh and looked Tyrix up and down. “Because let’s face it, Tyrix, you’ve seen better days.”
“Oh, I’m more than enough for you, Howlinger.” Tyrix spoke calmly, silencing Howlinger’s laugh before it could form.
The houndour, however, hadn’t got the message. Their laughter echoed through the blazing clearing, their eyes flashing like embers. They stalked around the flames into position, flanking their leader, their tongues lolling from the heat. Hunger flared in their eyes, primal and sinister.
Tyrix took a step to the side towards one of the burning tree-houses, feigning fear. The houndour lapped it up, but the look on Howlinger’s face said he wasn’t convinced. He watched the typlosion with suspicion.
“Come on then, mutt,” Tyrix scoffed. “Or are you too afraid to fight your old father?”
Howlinger snorted flames from his nostrils. “Father? Don’t make me laugh! You’re nothing. Look at you, all sickly. Killing you would be mercy. I should just leave you to suffer here in these flames.”
“Like you did to the pokemon of that village?” The tree-house crumbled, sending burning wood and cinders into a bramble. It welcomed the flames like a lost child, crackling as they licked over its slender, thorny branches. “You’re forgetting one thing, Howlinger.” Tyrix stepped through the blaze and flames leapt to life on his back. They drew in the fire like a magnet. Yelps leapt around the houndour as they began to pace, uncertainly. “Fire gives me strength.”
Howlinger bared his canines and lowered his head to the ground. He snarled at his pack until they copied him, pawing at the warm slushy earth with uncertainty. Howlinger barked twice and the pack forked off to the left and right. Their teeth flashed orange in the flames and dark energy formed around their jaws.
Tyrix met the wide stare of a smaller houndour and it faltered. It leapt back from Tyrix and opened its jaws wide, spewing a flamethrower right at the typhlosion. Tyrix spread his arms, welcoming it. His flames erupted on his back and he threw his head back and roared.
“Don’t use fire, you idiot!” Howlinger screamed. He rushed the smaller dog and grabbed it by the scruff.
The rest of the pack faltered, hovering around Tyrix’s back and flanks. Heat pulsed out from him sweeping across the clearing. The houndour yelped, falling back, their eyes screwed shut. Howlinger winced, releasing his hold on his terrified underling. Wave after wave of heat left the typhlosion’s body, intensifying the fire that swept through the trees. As he lowered his arms, the heat-waves stopped and he cast a glance around the clearing.
Houndour lay gasping, their dry tongues hanging from their gaping mouths. A few had escaped with minimal injuries, standing with their sides to the typlosion, their eyes warily watching his every movement. Howlinger turned, panting, his eyes wide as they took in the blaze. The ground was black under their feet, but fire towered around them like a wall. They were all penned in. Wood popped and snapped in the silence, fuelling the intense heat that baked the clearing dry.
Howlinger gasped a couple of times then looked at his remaining pack. “Well don’t just stand there! Kill him!”
The houndour whimpered as they paced back and forth in a bid to keep their paws off the hot, black ground.
“Kill him!” Howlinger roared, sending a stream of flames at the tails of those closest.
The houndour leapt to action, circling away and behind Tyrix. The typhlosion watched them and tutted.
“Can’t fight your own battles?” he scoffed at Howlinger.
Tyrix swung an arm as one of the smaller dogs leapt at him. Fist met jaw with a sick crack and the houndour flew back with a yelp. Tyrix didn’t see where it landed. He immediately turned to block a bite from another dog, hitting it to the ground. He brought his foot down on its neck and turned his back to Howlinger. The typhlosion launched a flamethrower at an oncoming pair of houndour, scattering them like frightened hatchlings.
Tyrix’s flames cut off with a yell as teeth met in his shoulder. Another set fastened in his arm and he twisted, dislodging the small dog from his back. Howlinger’s wicked eyes burned up at him. A snarl, muffled from Tyrix’s arm, swept over the typhlosion’s body. Rather than yank his arm free, Tyrix brought his free fist down onto the houndoom’s large, curved horn. He yelped but didn’t relinquish his grip. Tyrix raised his paw to strike again as a houndoom flew at him from behind. It grabbed his wrist in its jaws, tearing into his flesh. Two more landed on his shoulders while another tried to grab his leg. Tyrix roared, his flames erupting along his back and knocking the two houndour to the floor. He let loose another heatwave and Howlinger fell back with a yelp. The houndour dropped from his arm to land crumpled on a splintered branch.
Tyrix shook blood from his arm and took a few deep breaths. Howlinger clambered to his feet and stood, head lowered, meeting Tyrix’s eyes. Tyrix stifled a cough and forced his back flames to re-ignite. The slender canine stalked along the wall of flames, his body a shadow against the bright blazing light. His eyes reflected the fire like hot coals. The two pokemon circled one another around the clearing, both panting from the heat. Howlinger’s fur was singed and patchy, revealing raw skin. One of his paws trailed blood over the floor. Tyrix’s chest complained, pushing smoke up from his lungs which joined the smoke rising from the clearing.
Howlinger leapt, his jaws gaping wide. Tyrix ducked, catching him with an eruption from his back flames. The dog yelped, landing awkwardly on the floor. He staggered to his feet and leapt again. Tyrix was caught off guard as the dog locked his jaws around his shoulder. The typhlosion roared, grabbing the houndoom’s horns with both paws. He twisted, trying to dislodge the canine but Howlinger kept his hold, locking his jaw. With a roar, Tyrix raked his claws along Howlinger’s flanks, scraping his raw flesh. The dog howled, releasing his hold and falling back, spitting bloody saliva. It hung from his jowls as his lips pulled back from his teeth, readying another attack.
“Not had enough yet, huh?” Tyrix’s voice cracked and he staggered, masking it with a side-step.
“You clearly have,” Howlinger growled.
He leapt again, but Tyrix was ready this time. He caught the dog by his jaws, forcing them open. He raised the whimpering houndoom off the ground and spun, launching him into the crumbling building. He landed beside the manectric in a tangled heap. With a sound like thunder, rubble rained down around him, pelting his body with hot, smoldering splinters. Flames licked across the shattered roof of the house, spraying embers down onto the houndoom. Howlinger’s legs shook as he struggled to his feet. He flashed a glare towards Tyrix.
He spat blood onto the floor, not taking his eyes off the typhlosion. “You’re not gonna win this one, ‘father’.”
A loud snap came from the rafters. Howlinger jerked his head up towards it, and his eyes widened. A large beam broke free, crashing down towards him. A yelp followed as it struck Howlinger across the back. He crumpled beneath its weight, his body twisting unnaturally.
Tyrix marched over to him, his breaths heavy and smoking. Howlinger’s eyes were wide and fearful. His forepaws flailed to drag himself free. His back end was hidden under the splintered wood, but Tyrix could just see his feet poking free. Howlinger whined and turned his head towards them. Then he jerked his head back around to the typlosion.
“Help me!” he gasped.
“How many times have you heard that cry?” Tyrix shook his head slowly.
Howlinger gasped again, a wordless breath. His eyes glazed as blood pooled from his mouth.
“You’ve been fighting on the wrong side of this war,” Tyrix told him. “But I suppose I could show you the mercy you’ve denied others.”
He met the dog’s terrified eyes, but Howlinger said no more.
Tyrix brought his paw down onto Howlinger’s head. The dog fell limp, his sightless eyes staring into the blazing clearing. Tyrix stooped to close them and stood back. Such a waste.
He’d done it. He’d defeated the Wildfires. They were no longer a threat to Estellis. The typlosion’s face twisted in a grimace as a cough shook his body. Thick black smoke billowed from his lungs. He dropped to his knees as all energy left his body. Yet as he fell to the floor, a large smile spread across his muzzle.
He’d done it.
