Tzich stuck his hands in his pockets and spun into the open space behind Carly, confidently safe while she was so efficiently attracting the dog's furious attention. He'd admired her reaction and her command of her limbs and balance, but her instinct could use work. The stench had him on edge; he resisted the urge to drive that beast into the pavement, just to hear it screech, to feel the shards of an old soul scatter. This one was hers, its blood for her teeth.

"Well," he shrugged, and he grinned, speaking through a hiss. "There are a few ways to go about gutting him." Tzich dropped to one knee behind Carly and took the back of her hand in his palm. "Let's try them all," he whispered in her ear.

The dog shot forward before he finished speaking. Tzich raised their hands together, and he drew on both their energies, pulled it dark and crackling from her stomach, and he took careful aim at the oncoming threat.