Though she had no understanding of the writhing beast before her, Daugi implemented the same plan of action she always did when faced with a great foe and no Fenn to do the thinking; run baying at the beast, accosting it with all the strength her bulky body held.

Her teeth dug deep into the fungoid flesh of a tendril. If it was hurt by her biting, it gave no indication. The mass between her teeth shivered and split in two, one half a new freed tentacle, the other still pinned by the direwolf’s futile tearing jaws. Rearing up into the air, rapid thrashing wracked the beast. It swung the stubborn direwolf through the air in wild loops, breaking several paintings and nearly running over Fenn in the process. Daugi smashed into side table. Her grip slackened, and the beast freed itself of her. She yapped in pain and rolled over the splintered furniture, struggling to get her bearings.

As she worked to shake off her dizziness, the beast turned to Fenn with a thousand beady stalks. A slither of the tendrils wound around his wrists and chest, lifting him up for viewing, for inspection. The boy stared back with bleary eyes, still blinded by its song.

It began to pull him in opposite directions at once, as if it was judging how easy it might be to snap him in half.

Daugi had often recognized his magic as almost a separate being from the boy. There were many instances where he seemed a bit off-put by its machinations. It was him, but not him. Even as he lay prone, it prickled around him, the spikes of an urchin. The foreign touch stirred the frost. It crept up the boy’s sleeves and collar, to crawl curiously onto the tendrils grasping him.

Chittering screams echoed through the broken mansion. It dropped Fenn, drawing away from the source of the frost with shriveling tendrils, a snail from salt.

Just as it was about to come down, a snarling streak of black fur bashed into the beast’s side. It hollered another hollow brown note and swatted the furious, tearing mass of black away, throwing her again. Sharpened claws skidded for a grip on the wood planks, shredding splinters and rot alike. Daugi panted, getting to her feet again to growl down the beast. One of her paws throbbed immensely as it supported her weight, twisted during her rough landing. She was coming around to the fearful realization that she did not have the means to defeat it. The longer they stayed in the room, the more fungal blooms appeared. Spores were thickening the air. Fenn coughed, his breathing labored.
Her boy-pup was going to be in a lot of trouble for getting them into this.

Daugi’s gaze snapped between the abomination and her vulnerable charge. Diving for Fenn, she snapped him up by the collar, almost giving him whiplash as she streaked away. Her throbbing paw was ignored for the moment. The creeping abomination receded into a blur behind them, letting out nails-on-chalkboard screeches as it slithered after. It was strong. She wasn't sure where she was headed. Into another room? A closet? Out a window?

Out the window.

Drapes tore, salt scattered and glass exploded. Fragments tore into Fenn’s face and her side, watering the grass black and red.

Time seemed suspended to the wolf as they fell out the second story. The jump blurred into her fall, and then the ground was upon them.

Daugi landed on the bristled lawn with a heavy groan, Fenn landing partially on top of her. The air was knocked clean out of her. She panted into the quiet, shivering, feeling instinctively lucky that she and her boy-pup were still in once piece. The wolf rolled over and looked back at the house, barely breathing for fear.

It was at the window above, tendrils slurping at the shattered glass, leaving oily tufts of spores behind. When it found a spattering of salt at the sill, it hissed and retreated back into the dark of the house. Daugi rasped for air and struggled to her feet, staring into the dead black. She understood that they hadn’t defeated it. It was probably only a matter of time before it found its way out of the wards placed on the house. Hopefully, a very long time.

With the retreat of the beast, the noises had ceased. Silence rang loud in Fenn’s ear. He sat up ponderously and glanced about, not entirely certain he understood what had just happened. The boy looked rather bewildered as he stanched the black oozing from his cheek. Glassy green eyes stared back at the house with confusion before he was yanked away from it unceremoniously.

Still dragging her stunned little friend by the sleeve of his cloak, the direwolf limped in the opposite direction from whence they came.