Bitch hauled on Bastard’s chain, shouting, “Go!” She climbed halfway onto Sirius’ back, unable to climb up higher with her injured leg. Grue and I followed as Bastard crashed into one of the walls of flame, sending burning trash flying and spreading out the flaming water.
Fair enough. I guess going through one of them quickly is going to burn less than staying put.
Bitch rode Sirius through the break, and Grue and I hurried after.
Hot.
How well is your costume holding up, Skitter?
I stumbled as the heat built. I was supporting Grue as best as I was able with the pain in my ribs protesting even the slightest movements of my arm, let alone trying to support a nearly-grown teenage boy.
Ah, right, they don’t get the luxury of riding a super fast doggo out.
The heat of the flames increased. I think we could have made it if it was just one or two steps, but it wasn’t. Five paces failed to carry us out of the flames.
Damn, these are thick.
We were too slow to keep up with Bastard and make use of the way he was scattering the flames for us.
And that day, Bastard split the Red Sea, but unfortunately, Skitter and Grue had too much distant Egyptian ancestry to be allowed through.
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