The corner of Drust’s mouth and nose rose in a quiet growl, his neck twitching. “We didn’t know [i]what[/i] to expect, boy.” He glared at Ghent.
	“Dust.” Elayra turned to face him, her expression fierce as she silently begged him to hang in there for just a short while more. “Save it for training tonight.”
	His gaze locked with hers for a tense moment. He snorted, then crossed his arms tightly, his muscles bulging with the effort where the fabric pulled tighter against his arms.
	When Ghent teased about a curse, Elayra snarled and took a step away, her eyes flicking between Ghent and the phone. She heard Drust shuffle a step forward behind her with a snarl of his own.
	Noticing the poorly suppressed enjoyment on Ghent’s face, her chin lowered and she glared at him in warning. “Curses are [i]nothing[/i] to joke about,” she hissed through her teeth.
	[b]“Don’t worry, Princess.”[/b]
	“Do [i]not[/i] call me that!” she interrupted venomously.
	[b]“I’m not turning you away. I’ll figure this out. Always do.”[/b]
	“Cocky child, aren’t you?” Drust growled.
	Elayra inhaled at the all too familiar menacing tone in his voice, and spun around, her displeasure with Ghent placed on the back burner. 
	“Far too long ago,” she muttered to Ghent’s question, slowly raising a hand beside her, trying to usher him a bit further back and stand squarely between him and Drust.
	A war raged in the White Knight’s eyes between the Curse and the soul it infested. The dark lines at their edges pulsated and wormed outward, the black-webbed-red threatening to consume his pupils for the third time that day.
	“C’mon, Drust,” she began, her voice somewhere between demanding and soothing. “Hang in there. We need him to [i]want[/i] to come with us, remember? How about we get out of here, find something to eat, and—”
	Her words cut off as the Curse won.
	“There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” 
	“Ghent, run!” Elayra hissed as, in a fluid motion, both she and Drust drew their weapons. The [i]clang[/i] of metal on metal filled the room before Elayra’s voice finished reaching Ghent, her body bending back to avoid Drust’s longer blade in its close proximity. The strength of the blow radiated down her arm, but she only tightened her grip.