Normally you’d suspect the monkeys to cause more problems than they help solve. On the plus side, when Flick and Co. go hunting for Pace and inevitably slaughter their way through countless hordes, they’ll let spare the monkeys.
So, apparently neither the bastard werewolf nor the ugly face-in-chest Blemmye that I had killed had ended up giving me super-nurse-healing-caretaker powers, because nothing sprang to mind about how to help poor Roxa deal with what was happening to her. I was frozen for a moment, staring uncertainly.
While I was frozen, the girl jerked against the ground, her hand shrinking slightly into more of a paw shape as a brand new shriek of agony escaped her. And in that moment, I shoved all that doubt aside.
My hand moved to stroke through her hair tenderly while I put one hand on her bare back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling a wretched guilt tear itself through me at the sight of her agony. “I’m so sorry.”
Roxa gave another heavy shudder, a terrible wail escaping her as she arched her back against me. I saw bits of fur…
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