Bearclaw Valley spirits of the dead

It wasn't enough. The red devil releases his scruff but doesn't get up from where she's settled across his body, yelling at him, demanding action. Karst is not a man of action — he is a boy of indecision, more of a host to some alien invertibrate. He'd rather sag in to the dirt or slide his way to the sea and return to the single-celled organism lifestyle.

There is something there, though. Something inherent to that body; an instinct that runs on a long fuse. It has taken this long for that fuse to light and burn down, and while it has a ways to go, he feels the sparks beneath his skin as he comes closer and closer to the explosive end that Avicus demands of him.

He trembles. At first it is fear, then it is adrenaline that burns him from the inside. He quakes as he tries to stand up and fight back against gravity and the sense of danger the devil exudes; it does not take much effort at all for Karst to rise and while he feels some strain from Avicus' body being lifted he is too busy being surprised at his own strength. He does not want to hurt her — what would happen to him, this lowly worm child, if a princess of Ursus were to be harmed?