The stench of death thickened as the Dead Mutants surged forward, a relentless tide of grotesque forms, their claws tearing at the barren ground as they closed in on the Deathhound. The air thrummed with the low growls and shrieks of the approaching monstrosities, their pale, sunken dead eyes fixating on their prey. The Deathhound's white-hot gaze remained locked on them, its chest heaving as the sounds of its breathing echoed through the desolate landscape of the Shadow Realm.
"*AWROOOOO*!"
The Deathhound's haunting cry reverberated across the field, a sound that sent shivers through even the most battle-hardened onlookers. Sil and the others, still concealed in the shadows at a distance, could only watch as the monstrous creature—Greenie, once their comrade—now stood alone against a sea of death…metaphorically of course.