[Salone]

"The nephilim..."

Na'lsa whispered, eyes fixated on the broken figure. Deep within him he felt the lust of hunger for that body. The twisted figure that had imposed himself on them. The sweet nectar that coursed through its veins. The meat was a treasure, but the power that filled that body was the real prize.

He cleared the distance between him and the crumpled figure, falling to his knees before it. His pupils grew as his bloodlust began to consume him. With ill intent in his voice, he spoke loudly for those present to hear.

"Nephilim, your flesh is forfeit!"