This was not going well.

His mother, his poor mother, had stumbled away, panting and wounded. She wanted to stay, but he had forced her to leave. To return home, where she would be safe and could heal. The others would take care of her, he knew, even if they longed to join him. He allowed only one, the man Sagitta, usually so kind and patient. Even the most patient of tsabhua could become violent when one of their own was threatened or injured. Wyrd was one of their own, one of their beloved... she was Pimento's mother and an elder of the tribe.

The damage the tark'ee had done would not go without return.

The two males crouched, watching, their staffs humming quietly in their hands, readied but not blazing with light. Sagitta's was yellow, reflecting the pale earth about them, while Pimento's would shine blue once in use. The belemoid had a cape draped over his shoulders and leather across his legs and paws. While Sagitta held no such defenses, he was a good deal larger than the belemoid, taller too than the sandy beast that lay injured within the heart of the volcano.

The others were distracted by other colonies, both Xione males knew.

Once this beast's form lay in repose, they would be able to tend to their wounds and take care of the last one.

The metallic monster at the center, who had sung out in ways that only their drones, beeping and chirring, could understand. She seemed... confused, but angry nonetheless. She blamed them for what had happened to her. Yet, it was not their fault. Even as grey eyes watched them, the two colonists knew they were only doing what they needed to, to survive. To discover what was going on. Some part of Pimento's mind told him: you should go back. This is not your fight. Return to your mother.

But no.

This was personal, now.

Pimento slunk through the shadows, avoiding the blistering heat of something he had never seen before but knew intrinsically was death. It bubbled, sputtering around them, and he held his own breath as the lava seemed to rise and fall, as if the earth beneath was breathing. The mother was beyond, her chains rattling as she shook them, their black ropes stark against the glow of red. Sagitta remained at the center of the sandy tark'ee's attention, swinging his staff or knocking it against stone to distract the beast whenever he turned to look at where the slithering one had gone.

Sagitta's teeth snapped as he bellowed a taunt at the tark'ee.

Terracotta glowered at him, eyes narrowed.

This is not right, Pimento's mind whispered. There is more here than you know.

It did not matter.

The belemoid leaped, aiming the sharp point of his staff for the solid mass above the swinging loose flesh of the tarkee's throat. Sagitta charged, swinging his own weapon at the tark'ee's other side, slashing into flesh and causing the beast to roar in pain. It spun, aiming its heavy tail at whichever it could reach. Yet, it would not be enough. The belemoid was tired, but he was swift. The tsabhua was large and formidable, though his bulk was nowhere as dense as the tark'ee.

Nevertheless, they would fight.

Lava spurted and the ashen ground rolled, sending steam through the air as the metallic creature in the center called out a warning before Pimento's next strike. Terracotta twisted, aiming a savage bite at the belemoid's body. Beak tore into fabric and ripped, tearing part of Pimento's cape as the belemoid twisted away from certain death, dancing with the devil as he fought to catch his breath. Sagitta took the opening, aiming the butt of his staff in the crease between the tark'ee's head and neck, hoping to knock the monster out.

The chains rattled.

They were not done.

Pimento crouched in the shadow of a broken stalagmite to catch his breath as Sagitta darted in, aiming blow after blow after blow. He was honestly, faster than Pimento, but not quite as strong. Still, he was used to battling creatures unlike himself, those who tried to harm what he considered his. With one final blow, he aimed the sharp end of his staff, letting it pulse with built up energy into a final blast, brilliant golden light sending the area into stark relief.

When the light faded, who would remain?