Sawtooth and I moved as one to attack. I lashed out with my hooves, barely avoiding the creature’s sharp teeth. It gave Sawtooth the opening he needed, and with vicious precision, he tore out the creature’s throat.
I was moving on instinct and adrenaline, some of my old military training animating me. It was too late for the guard who had been attacked, but Sawtooth picked up his weapon and tossed it to me. I caught it--a pike, with a serrated blade for its head--just as we heard scream from nearby.
“Find somewhere safe,” I crisply said to Madame Fog. She nodded, lips pressed together in a grim line.