“You’re, only, feeding it!” Elayra managed between her teeth, unsure whether the strained words were loud enough for Ghent to hear. She rolled onto her front as Ghent continued to egg Drust on, one arm draped over her midsection and the other propping herself up, shaky from the backlog of events of the day as she vaguely wondered what else could go wrong.
	Drust only sneered at Ghent’s failed attempt at cracking his knuckles. When the boy pulled his phone out, Drust slid one foot behind the other and stood in a slightly crouched position, fists raised for the defensive as he waited for Ghent to make the first move. 
	He snarled, stepped back, and averted his gaze when a bright flash burst from the small device. At the sound of the pone hitting the floor, he turned his head and moved back on swift feet, blinking rapidly. Drust bent his head back just in time, Ghent’s knuckles brushing against his skin, only nicking their target.
	Still blinking away the effects of the flash, in a swift movement, Drust moved to ram his forearm into Ghent’s to force it away, and jab his other fist toward the left side of Ghent’s rib cage.