Fenn let out a disappointed grunt as he watched the Creatrix’s headless body collapse near the human and Nephilim. The crazed monster had dutifully eluded his fangs throughout the skirmish. It was ironic, in a way. The creature may have seemed insane, but an instinctive sense of self-preservation had been sharp and present.
 
Insanity that wished to persist. The mere thought soured his mood, which in turn brought to mind the other demon in their entourage.
 
He had lost the Imp during the battle, when she had been blasted out of the sky. The dog’s nose twitched as glanced around, trudging towards her landing spot. It would be irritating if he found her dead so early into their partnership. As a way to renege on a deal, it was a very effective method.
 
Fenn found Lily splayed on her back and with her eyes closed some distance away from a networks of cracks on the stone he assumed had come from her crash. At first he thought it was folded under her body, but as he approached, he realized one of demoness’s draconic wings had all but disintegrated, leaving behind a blackened stump and a scrap of tattered webbing behind. Severe burns covered much of her torso, leftovers from the Creatrix’s aerial assault.
 
As the Hound’s lumbering steps drew closer, the shapeshifter stirred. Her hand went to her head, and she groaned groggily.
 
“Ow. That hurt.”
 
“You live,” the dog observed dryly. 

“Obviously. You’ve done worse to me in the past. This is nothing new.” She sat up, looking around. Her eyes fell upon still body of the Creatrix. “Well, at least we managed to kill... whatever that thing was.”

The dog hummed, a noncommittal rumble in his throat. Comparing those wounds to ones he had dealt felt odd, but the Imp was not of his kind. Her wounds were different to his. Though certainly fiery, the power wielded by the mad goddess could hardly be called flame. Mere flame would not have given him pause. 

His body spoke for itself. His hide seemed to sag in various places, as if it was not properly attached to the meat below. The commonly soot black scales in those areas had lost some of their darkness, acquiring a milky, transparent quality to them as they begun to peel away from his body. His right eye’s vision was blurry, and the dog suspected a trickle of blood and smoke was pouring from its edge. He knew from experience that shedding the damaged scales would only take a few hours at worst, but it could not be denied that his body had not taken well to the foreign power.

 “Aye. But there is more. Look to the seal,” Fenn answered, craning his neck around.

Up above, at the source of the radiance that bathed the area there was a large prismatic burst, and the shadowy form of Panoptos plummeted to the ground. A smug smirk formed on the dog’s muzzle. That gave some confirmation to his thoughts that the Watcher was vulnerable outside of the Council’s jurisdiction. Indeed, standing back and seeing whether that was truly the case was an interesting proposition.

“He deserved that,” the  demoness  muttered with a self-satisfied smirk. “Glorified slave bossing us around.” She stood up, spending a few moments to look herself over. She grunted something about looking vulnerable, and then simply seemed to shrink; tail and wings receding, scales disappearing and horns crumbling to nothing. What was left was a tall and dark haired woman, seemingly unhurt. 

"Shall we?" she asked, looking up at Fenn then nodding towards the fallen Watcher.

Fenn grunted an affirmative. It seemed little would be gained from waiting regardless. The interloper had lost much of its hostility once it had knocked Panoptos out of the sky, floating down to address the group as they approached. A regrettable turn of events, truly. The being’s first sentence had not completely reached his ears before the hound decided he would like to see it quartered, and now he lacked an excuse to do so. 

“May I eat it?” he asked plainly.

Lily looked to contemplate it for a moment. “I advise against it. I don’t think copper is good for your stomach, dear Hound.” 

The dog’s throat rumbled thoughtfully. They reached the group a moment after, just as the winged creature finished its introduction. 

Fenn stood behind Lily, watching the proceedings through veiled eyes. It quickly became apparent that this conversation was irrelevant to him. He was far from caring about which side he fought for, as long as battle could be promised. Neither did Panoptos’s lip service to the moral probity of their mission impress him. The dog had long ceased to search for righteousness in his causes. And even were this not the case, the shade and its leaders had struck him as conniving snakes that could not be trusted the moment they had reached out to them. Instead, he glanced down at his Warleader. It was her who had chosen to throw her lot in with the Council, and thus it was her and the others to whom the contents of this conversation were addressed to.

However, Lily seemed as uninclined to participate in the conversation as he was. Odd. He was not quite sure what to make of her sudden taciturnity.

Soon enough, the conversation reached its end, and the copper creature retreated, ceding the Seal with no further conflict. The dog let out a deep breath. By the flames, that thing had irked him.

For his part, Panoptos turned to address the group. “Come now, the demons will be here any minute. It'll be in the Council's private space in just a few moments. We'll be warped along with it, then I'll patch us through to the Citadel.”

Lily straightened at that, planting her hands in her hips. “Actually, we’ve been here the entire time.” She waved a hand at herself and Fenn. “I figured nine eyes made for better eyesight… guess I was wrong.”