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Alastor limped forward a few steps, pausing at the sound of breaking glass from behind him. He tensed, whipping the tendril to get the dead urchin sinner off. The sinner went flying, crashing into a group of fleeing sinners and bowling them over. Most had the good sense to stay down, either dead or playing, he didn’t care. It was the ones that were still fleeing that he wanted to chase.
And then there was the screaming.
Alastor took another step forward, pausing when he really registered the sound.
Vox.
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Bookmark Notes:
Really sweet
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Vox is the one who get wrecked but Alastor gets the emotional Whump. Yay angst.
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