The stink of the stable hit you like Huntington's most recent punch. You scrambled to your feet, aiming your gun, firing a shot before you'd steadied your legs--

BANG

--you hit a portrait, and the hound came crashing down upon your companion.

~~~~~

FWW-THD

Mary slammed onto the carpet, twitching. Her opponent had her pinned down, its humid exhalations nearer than ever--

Mary rolled her head to the left. His fangs missed her neck-- narrowly.

Already, the sheep was inundated with heat. She bleated for help-- her friend could save her, after all, if she was loud enough! But her eyes betrayed her, the sheep's wool perfectly positioned to swamp her brain with fog--

No! Mary wouldn't let this happen again! Even now-- even as she could hardly look her assailant in the eye, even as she trembled with rememberance, with familiarity, with fear-- as she and her old attacker's eyes met-- she would not let him win!

Lightning raced through her wool, electrifying her blood, swelling inside Mary and begging to be released. The sheep made good use of her new legs, taking the absence of her old hooves as an invitation to grab onto her victim like he once did onto her, letting this force of nature take hold of her before bursting forth as an enormous shock--

~~~~~

Your and Huntington's eyes lit up like a light show, neither of you truly able to grasp what you were witnessing.

A veritable wave of thunder Discharged from the pink creature's wool, meeting with the electricity leaving its eyes, coursing through Huntington's hound and bringing forth its skeleton into view.

The creature yelped, stiffening up-- giving Mary just enough time to throw it to the side and run to you. Mary bleated, her voice all-too familiar to you-- there was no doubt in your heart, this was her. Mary gripped your waist and looked up at your shirt pocket, bleating something to Florian, searching around for a now-missing Taylor.

You were more preoccupied with Huntington's hound. It hadn't moved, and you were certain it was a goner. How could even the most resilient creature survive something like that? What looked like some kind of holy force, directed straight at the core of the creature's being-- there was no way it could withstand such a blow.

And yet...

Across from you stood Huntington's hound. It had patches of fur missing. It was trembling. But... it was still standing.

Its jaws flared to life once more, absolutely caked in fire. The creature's glance swept the room-- it passed over a terrified Taylor, huddled beneath a chair, over you, over... its master. Governor Huntington itself.

And it recalled the command he once gave it.

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