The plan probably doesn't make sense to Billie because it doesn't make much sense to Daud, either. It's a far cry from the meticulous jobs he once ran as the Knife of Thalassa, every contract's movements planned down to the detail ... but they're a hundred years from here and that blood-soaked battlefield, in another life Daud's left behind. Here, with so little, he claws for every small advantage he's offered.
The wolf lunges for Shura and Billie, swift and merciless and far faster than its bulk should allow, but swift reflexes keep them from getting a chunk torn out of them, while Billie leads it out to the open. Maddened by the repeated attempts to frustrate his attacks, the beast hurls itself forward one more time -- and balks, suddenly, coming to a stop with one limb raised to swipe at them, its head jerking like a marionette puppet's as its gaze is suddenly wrenched towards one of the roofs.
Daud's crouched on the edge, fingers of one hand curled into the crumbling eaves to hold himself steady, the other raised and gloveless, pointing a strange ring directly at the creature. The tiefling doesn't even seem to breathing, and the wolf shudders as though it's having a seizure, frozen in place for a few more beats until it abruptly raises a hand again.
This time, its aim isn't to catch Billie or Shura. Instead, the wolf ... turns its claws on itself. As though controlled by a will independent of the wolf's own, it begins to beat and tear at its own head and chest, something that would be a comical sight if it wasn't beginning to open up lines of gore across its own flesh.
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The wolf lunges for Shura and Billie, swift and merciless and far faster than its bulk should allow, but swift reflexes keep them from getting a chunk torn out of them, while Billie leads it out to the open. Maddened by the repeated attempts to frustrate his attacks, the beast hurls itself forward one more time -- and balks, suddenly, coming to a stop with one limb raised to swipe at them, its head jerking like a marionette puppet's as its gaze is suddenly wrenched towards one of the roofs.
Daud's crouched on the edge, fingers of one hand curled into the crumbling eaves to hold himself steady, the other raised and gloveless, pointing a strange ring directly at the creature. The tiefling doesn't even seem to breathing, and the wolf shudders as though it's having a seizure, frozen in place for a few more beats until it abruptly raises a hand again.
This time, its aim isn't to catch Billie or Shura. Instead, the wolf ... turns its claws on itself. As though controlled by a will independent of the wolf's own, it begins to beat and tear at its own head and chest, something that would be a comical sight if it wasn't beginning to open up lines of gore across its own flesh.