Receiving the greeting from the only present werewolf, Veti, was comforting. He smiled at each person as they were introduced, a respectful, knowing nod to Semyon. One moment Veti is speaking of their current predicament, the next everyone is unsettled and the world is a violent and vile tint of green. Screaming, quick movements, orders from Thad. Gabe sat on the floor for only a few moments after all the chaos began, frightened into paralysis. But to him it was an ineffable amount of time, a few seconds? Several hours? The fur on the giant canine was responsive to the muscles beneath it. The fury of the animal resonated not only through his whole body, but the whole country-side as well. And it resonated within Gabe, too. The green lightning was familiar, flashes of a blue-flame scorched wasteland and sword fighting lit by green and blue magics sounded out somewhere in the darkness of Gabe’s memory. Gabe stood, his breath heavy as he peered into the wolf-god’s eyes. He could hardly look away (perhaps both because of his fear and curiosity). 

“Oh mon dieu,” the angel whispered to himself. 

Gabe heard his name mentioned by the warlock, he traced Semyon’s steps every so often, praising the man’s dedication and finesse. Gabe prayed silently, nodded toward Thad. “I’m going up. At least I can distract him, then attack from above.” Gabe said. 

He was already walking, getting ready to run, toward the beast. His sprint turned into bounds, at any moment someone might expect him to begin flying. In fact Gabe drew his sword, he smiled to himself with the last words of his personal prayer being lifted off from his heavenly mind. He would finally be active, rather than reactive. He received a jolt of a childish excitement as he planned his attack at a mile a minute, the great legs of the beast looming on either side. Suddenly Gabe jumped into the air, his vertical was incredible, enough to put Derrick Rose to shame. With an unnatural agility he spun end over end, like a wheel. Just before he reached the ground again he threw his sword into the wolf’s leg. It was a stiff shot as the sword wiggled into place in the wound. Gabe landed roughly, his arm and knees taking most of the damage as he rolled back into a standing position. Gabe readied himself once more, sprinted forth toward the same leg he’d just stabbed. The Angels blue eyes were fixed to the hilt of his sword, lodged in the matted fur of the wolf-god’s leg. He jumped once more, the grace of god most certainly blessing him here. He barely grasped the heavy hilt of the sword, spun himself using the sword as a lever and jumped into the air, removing the sword. He was propelled over the side of the beast and near his side, Gabe plunged his sword as best he could into the beasts neck, holding on for dear life. He gasped and moaned as the wolf reeled, trying to upset the sword. Anyone who bore witness to Gabe’s latest movements would likely be treated to an unnatural and uncanny set of actions—almost cartoony. 

The wolf seemed to be distracted by one of the other players in this battlefield and was briefly offset. Gabe took this chance to right himself and run up the steep furry hill. Before he knew it he was set between the two giant ears atop the wolf’s head. Gabe grabbed hold of one to balance himself and looked toward the ground below, he hoped to receive some sort of signal. Gabe sheathed his sword, knowing he’d need to keep it close to him for later, and drew his pistols instead. They were expendable and easily retrievable. Suddenly, as Gabe stood atop the wolf-god’s head, it’s roars erupting from his position, he felt like Fenris. He looked toward his group again, the ground moving it’s position as often as Fenris moved his head. Along with a new-found fear of heights came another fear, that Gabe might have to take the plunge from here. If he was right, his best chance for hitting this thing hard would be to jump from his position and send holy lead down the beast’s throat.