Dormant

Prologue

A demon roared, swinging its large arm as it struggled to catch the angel that was darting in front of it.

An angel shouted, white wings flapping down to send itself flying backwards out of the demon's attack.

And, settled in the background, hidden by the brush, was two pairs of eyes.

One was a brilliant gold in color. It was so golden, that it seemed to glow, though the dark shadows that surrounded them spoke otherwise of its supposed beauty. The other, a smaller set that seemed more furious in nature than the other eyes, were a lavender so light that the flaws of darker purple were noticeable in them. They seemed to be more alert as well. Every few seconds they would flicker to side to side before returning to the battling angel and demon. Nothing in either set of eyes suggested panic in them.

With a mighty growl, the demon with its red and black skin managed to land a hit on the angel. The demon, easily standing at fourteen feet tall with two massive claws on either hand, snarled as the angel that it had just struck landed roughly on the ground, skidding to a halt some place near the eyes. As they disappeared back into the foliage, the creature from Hell approached the panting angel. Chains rattled as it thundered up. Its beady eyes had locked onto the struggling angel as it tried to roll over and free the trapped halberd underneath itself, its white wings making it almost impossible to do so. The golden armor of the angel, dented in some places, creaked as it tried to pull the glowing feathers from the bushes that it had been caught on. That alone was strange enough; the angel could have sworn that it could feel the small prickings of what seemed like claws on its wing. But its main concern was the huge demon that had finally reached him, arm pulled back to kill him.

Before the demon could deliver the deathblow, a shadow darted. It slammed against the head the opposing creature, a bird-like shriek exploding from its mouth as a set of deadly looking claws flashed in the dying light before they were ripping into the demon's shoulders. The angel watched, a small spark of hope flickering through him, as he recognized a griffin, an angel's mount. Large wings, so black that they were almost blue, flapped madly as the demon tried to shove it off that the creature had obviously latched its yellow beak upon. A tail, long and feathery, wrapped about one of the demon's arms. As the triangular shaped head of the griffin jerked, ripping away part of the demon's flesh with it, its tail whipped out to the side, yanking the demon's arm with enough strength to rip it out from socket. Dark blood from the demon splattered across the grassy ground of forest. Darting away, the dark griffin jerked away from the creature, pulling along another chunk of its neck, and brought its tail around once more to slam it against the demon's face.

The angel recovered from its shock as some of the demon's blood landed on his armor with a soft hiss. It ripped its wing away from whatever that was holding it down by its wing. Pain flashed up through the appendage and the angel whipped around to see a large feline prowling out from the foliage that had hid it from the angel. Large white fangs were bared at the winged man and its eyes flickered over the beast. Muscles played out across its white and purple striped hide as it gracefully slid across the ground toward the angel, whiskers twitching as its tail swished back and forth. Small ears were pinned against its wide head and the angel had one fleeting thought -it's a tigress- before it was leaping.

There was a small noise as the griffin landed beside the tigress. It chirped at the mammal, large ears standing straight up in the air as its golden eyes casted a cheerful smile. Blood dripped from its beak; an obvious reminder of what the griffin was capable of was lying, face-first, in the grass some yards away as a bloodied mess. The tigress, calmer in nature and a little less playful, shook its head with a snort as it sat back on its haunches. Its ears flicked up as the griffin lowered its head, its skin rippling as it changed form. The black feathers of the griffin's wings shrunk until they were no more, creating a small jacket that was pulled around a much smaller figure than what it had been before. Its tail, once as long as its wingspan, was no more as the form protected by the black jacket shifted underneath. There was a small pause where the tigress had enough time to lift a paw nonchalantly up its mouth before a head popped out from the jacket.