The Death Claw cried out, flapped its wings to slow its descent, its eagle eyes searching for Leon's figure.
In the dim outskirts of the woods, the Guardians of the Dead Soul lost their manipulator once again. Their souls were drawn away, forcing them to come to a halt, giving up the scent of the living ahead. They turned around in a daze, marching towards the east.
Agilely weaving through the branches and rugged terrain, Leon heard the clattering sounds of the Heavy Armor Corpse Ghost's bone joints growing more distant behind him, and he couldn't help but turn back to look.
Assured that the pairs of Ghost Fire eyes were leaving, seemingly having given up the pursuit, he finally slowed his steps.
"...Leon! Quick, get on!"
The call of his lover made Leon look up.
The treetops above rustled with the wind, as the Death Claw descended. Olivia, perched in the saddle, bent over impatiently, reaching out her arm to her lover.
