Drew On- Drag

A clawed hand clamped onto Drew’s right leg, tearing into his flesh as he neared the summit.

“You can’t escape me!” gloated Vorjavik, sharp tongue flickering over his serrated teeth.

Suddenly, the Rat released his grip on Drew, striking his arm out against a furious black beak that stabbed at his neck. Fate had intervened, not for the first time that night. Having spied the Rat, Scree’s brother left the fight against Red Rufus to swoop down and attack Vorjavik. The Werecrow’s feet raked the Rat’s exposed spine, talons clenching tight as they tore huge lumps of oily-haired flesh from Vorjavik’s back.

Drew hurried on as the Rat snatched hold of the Crowlord’s beak, using all his strength to swing it around and smash it into the wall. Again and again Vorjavik drove the Werecrow into the ancient brickwork, until he released his grip and the Birdlord fell lifeless from the tower.

Drew hauled his body over the tower top, and Mia dropped from his back to her feet. The Werewolf lay there for a moment, breathing hard, exhausted. A black, clawed hand emerged over the parapet, swiftly followed by another, spurring Drew back into action. He staggered back to his feet as the Wererat clambered across the battlements, his black pelt soaked in blood.

B4 P3 C6