“No clue,” replied Alberio, his voice was heavy and relieved that the monster fled. Deep in his heart, he knew that if there was a battle than one would be dead. In his condition as well as already taking off his shackles once before, Alberio knew it would have been him. Alberio turned to look at Diego, his body was spent and was expected to fall anytime now. “When Momo had a good look at their leader, she went ballistic and threw everything she had at them in a bloodlust-like frenzy. Wasn’t like her at all.”
At length Alberio let his last words trail out and fade away sounding dead, his voice held n tone or power as it had. He was about to walk away when something else bit his tongue and forced itself through Alberio’s lips. “Thank you, for coming when you did.”
Alberio walked passed several wolverines on his way, they took notice of his shackles and gave him an all too familiar glare. They loathed him for acting human and limiting the power the wolverine blood gives to half-breeds. The humans loathed him for the simple fact of wolverine blood coursing through his veins. He was used to the glares, the taunting, and often fighting as he grew up, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt on a level they couldn’t see within Alberio’s heart.
“How is she?” asked Alberio to the nearest soldier that was attending to her. He kept his voice firm and casual.