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Bronwyn didn't realize what was happening until it happened. She saw Seth step back; she saw the same malicious smile spread over his maw. Par's maw, which he was controlling. Her only thought was 'Good. Seth's going to kill himself. Good for him.'
It wasn't until Bronwyn saw that single flash of red in Par's eyes that she realized what was happening. It was Partyanimal; they were back, and they were about to die.
Bronwyn leaped forward immediately, hoping to somehow be able to lift Par up, to grab their paw or their scruff or something- anything- to help them. She leaped forward to the edge of the cliff, her front paws hanging over the edge before she pulled herself back out of pure instinct.
The femme poised herself to leap again; by this time, Par had fallen, but she could've still helped them. However, a sudden flash of green erupted to her right. It was Yosafire, careening over the cliff in a desperate attempt to save Par.
It wouldn't work; Bronwyn knew that at heart. She would still leap down, trying her best to save both her friends, but it wouldn't work. One of them would be dead by the time she got down there.
Bronwyn took a few steps back and sprinted forward, launching herself over the edge of the cliff. This is what she was made for; she had strong legs and a long tail, and they both helped her stay upright and controlled as she leaped from rock to rock frantically, trying to get to Par and Yosafire in time.
The Lady landed with the muffled sound of splitting flesh; she hadn't realized it, but, as she was making her wild descent, both her shoulders had scraped against the jagged cliff face so roughly that they had been cut.
Blood streamed down her forelegs, but she didn't notice. She simply wiped it away and rushed over to Par and Yosafire, watching Arthur with a wild look on her face.
Yosaf was still alive; she knew that much just by seeing her breathe. But it seemed like Par wasn't breathing.
It seemed like Par wasn't breathing.
Bronwyn inhaled quickly and got down on the ground, studying Par's face for any sign of emotion, of reaction to pain. There was nothing there; Par was completely unresponsive.
She pushed away the thought of death and moved over to Yosafire, listening to her breath and watching her face as well. She wasn't making noise, so Bron didn't know if she was conscious, but she was breathing, and that meant that she was alive.
"Um, Arthur, I think you should work on Yosafire. I-I don't think P-Par is alive. I don't know if they're, um, if t-they're alive right now." That was the first time Bronwyn had spoken after she told Seth to let Partyanimal go. In a way, her wish had been granted. Par had been freed of Seth, but now Par was dead.
Her voice sounded hushed and meek, like it belonged to a small, frightened child. It scared her; usually she was calm, calculating, precise. Now she was helpless.
Bronwyn didn't say anything else; she couldn't say anything else. The sound of her own voice terrified her.
Instead, she resorted to counting Yosafire's breaths. It gave her something to cling onto; if there was one thing she could do, it was count. It would calm her down, take away some of the stress.
She counted Yosafire's breaths, her head bowed, silent tears running down her face. She didn't realize what Castiel was doing; in fact, she barely realized that Castiel was there. She kept counting, hoping against hope that Yosafire would be okay, that Par would be okay, that everyone would just be okay.
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