Getting used to the darkness of the castle was beginning to become a bit of an issue for Merlin, whose eyesight was less than perfect, though still reliable. As far as he knew, the group was already up and about, most likely exploring the castle grounds if he had to guess. Guiding him up the halls was Semargl the wolf. If any of them could see in all that darkness, it was him. The sigma's paws padded over the red carpet as he sniffed it and led Merlin up the hall. Occasionally, his ears would twitch, alerted by unusual sounds from a far-off chamber. Pinpointing its location was easy, but discerning the sounds less so. Semargl had found a wall where he believed a door should've been, what with the obvious stirring in the room behind it. Odd. His ebony lips curled into a snarl as he sniffed around the outer edge of the wall, picking up the scent of rotting flesh.

This is wrong…

"What is it, Semargl?" Merlin asked, noting his growls at the wall in front of him.

Semargl's fangs were bared. He blew air from his snout and begrudgingly turned his attention to the end of the hall and pressed onward. This castle was making his instincts go haywire. If it wasn't that damn cat trying to piss him off at every turn, it was the pungent odors permeating the air. Hotel California wreaked of rotting corpse from every direction no matter how near or how far he'd come to the source of the smell. Making matters worse, the sickeningly sweet aromas of Kilmister's candles, potpourri, and burning cedar logs in the hearth clashed with the putrid fumes. Oh, how Semargl wished he'd lost his sense of smell. And that cat, Victoria…tearing it limb from limb without hesitation was the least it deserved. That deplorable creature.

The more the two explored the castle, the more Semargl sensed that neither he, nor the others, had any knowledge of the time. Was it day or night? Where were the windows? Did Kilmister truly hate the sunlight this much that he'd get rid of them? Then Semargl stopped in his tracks at the very top of the grand staircase. His umber-colored eyes studied the foyer below, watching the group gathered together in the light of the fire. Gael was trying to get Polnareff's attention, but for some reason or another, it was like he couldn't hear him. He just sat there with a dreamy look on his face, staring at Eva as if he were off in another world entirely. After Gael shook him by the shoulder, he finally snapped back at him, bothered at the fact that someone disrupted his reverie, whatever the hell that was.

It didn't come as a surprise that Gael and Polnareff were once again butting heads. Semargl's instincts told him the two had a complicated nature. Funnily enough, it reminded him of a pack he once followed, and how the two alphas were always at each other's throats. In comparison, he hardly considered Polnareff and Gael alphas, though to be fair, they were humans. And Semargl didn't understand the social constructs of mankind very well.

Then he picked up another scent. Another unmistakable presence. Victoria. The jingling of her bell perked his ears as she nonchalantly rounded the corner across the way and proceeded to descend into the foyer. Knowing she was there meant that Kilmister wasn't far behind. Speak of the devil. His figure ghosted out of the darkness ominously, building dread in Semargl's body.

Something about that man was all wrong. And why was the aura around him so goddamn similar to the vibes of the castle? It was as if they were one and the same. Strange. There were windows when they arrived, and now there were none. How could Polnareff and the group just overlook something that obvious? Were human eyes not well-adjusted to this kind of darkness? Semargl could see it clear as day. Perhaps men really did have dulled senses compared to wolves. It was settled. If that truly were the case, he'd have to be their eyes and ears. If Kilmister and the castle were what he suspected, then bloodshed was bound to leap from the shadows at any given second.

"Oh, look!" Polnareff said, pointing at Victoria with a smile on his face. "It's that cute little kitty cat again." He crouched into the floor, eager to pet her. "Well, you seem to be in a better mood this time."

His smile faltered as she once again tucked her ears back and growled at him. Victoria's pupils dilated as she hissed and backed away with her back arched, and fur flared.

Gael sputtered out a laugh. "Careful, she might eat ya."

"Hey!" Polnareff's voice expressed aggravation, directed at Victoria. "Just what the hell's your damn problem, you stupid cat!? Can't you see I'm being nice?"

The waving he did with his hands as he talked, triggered Victoria to protract her claws. With a swift swipe of her paw, Polnareff yelled and withdrew his hand, taken aback by her violent action. The cat he and Sherry used to have when they were young had clawed him a few times, though that was because he refused to put it down. The claw marks hurt, but nothing like the way Victoria's did.

He stared at the horrifying wound in disbelief. What should have been scratches were deep cuts that rended his hand like a hot, serrated knife, leaving it dangling by the wrist. A thin stream of smoke rose up from his burning flesh. Semargl smelled it, knowing good and damn well that Victoria was without a doubt no ordinary cat. This was it. Time to finally satisfy the itch to bite that bitch's head off. Enraged by the vicious attack, he quickly descended down the stairs, leaping over the banister and straight into action.

"...the hell?!" Polnareff sat there, panicking about the wound, thinking that Gael or Merlin were paying him mind, but Gael interrupted him, piping up with a loud shout as Semargl violently tackled Victoria in front of him.

"Fuck me!" Cu Chulainn appeared, shielding him and Polnareff both.

Eva screamed, climbing up onto the sofa with Coco Jumbo in her embrace. Merlin stepped back beside the loveseat with his mouth agape as he clutched his cane tightly against his chest. "God's bones!" he cried.

Fear enveloped the foyer as the loud shrieking of canine snarls mixed with feline screeches. Semargl sank his fangs into Victoria's neck, about to shake her violently in an attempt to break her back, when something hot and scathing tore the meat from his ribs. He let out a yelp, releasing his bite around Victoria. Back-stepping away from one another, they circled slowly, locking eyes. Winding out of Semargl's back was a mass of tree roots, wriggling like unearthed worms. It was his stand, Lacuna Coil, emerging at his internal call. His glare stayed glued to Victoria, who shot the same fierce glare right back.

"Master Polnareff!" Merlin cried, darting around the sofa and kneeling beside him. "Quickly, give me your hand."

"What?!"

"Zounds, lad, just do it!"

Reluctantly, he offered it to him. Merlin's grasp around his arm was firm as he breathed steadily into his nose and calmed himself, despite the terror taking place before their very eyes. Polnareff watched, amazed at the rapid regeneration of his skin and tendons. It was like Victoria had never ripped him apart. He flexed his fingers in and out of his palm.

"Thanks…" he managed.

Before Merlin could respond, Victoria's loud meows echoed throughout the foyer. Lacuna Coil's roots formed a shield for Semargl, while others slithered along the floor, branching sprouts and limbs from its gradually growing trunk. Ensnaring Victoria's feet, the limbs began to constrict her, making her let out a distressed – almost sad – meow.

Die, damn you!

Slowly, the coils of the roots wrapped around her legs, then her body, then her neck, strangling her. Semargl was too angry to let up. Too angry to care he was taking her life. She attacked them first, it's only right that he did this. With a power like hers, he couldn't let her live. Same went for Kilmister; he was next.

Eva gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She'd never witnessed anything so horrible between two animals before. Gael looked over Cu Chulainn's shoulder, almost wishing he hadn't. Seeing the coiling mass of roots coming out of Semargl's back was unsettling and creepy to say the very least.

Victoria's eyes came open, the pupils of her icy blue irises as thin as a string of black thread. Reaching out from her white fur came a bulky, robotic tiger paw. Its shiny, metallic luster was a nearly blue shade of steel, reflecting back the orange glow of the hearthfire on its body. Large knife-like claws swooped down and severed the roots completely, freeing Victoria from its damning grip.

Semargl yelped, the freshly cut branches writhing around like broken lizard tails as blood shot out of erupting wounds on his ribs and back. The roots retracted into the other coils, slowly reforming into tree limbs sprouting leaf buds. Making a leap through the air with her claws protracted for good measure, Merlin gripped his cane and stepped into the fight, swinging it into Victoria. Her body flew into the banister, making a thunk noise shortly before the impact cut her off from letting out a pained meow. Up the staircase she fled, scampering swiftly off into the shadows to hide.

Merlin huffed and puffed, jabbing the end of his cane on the floor as if he was the alpha asserting dominance. Semargl thought so, anyway.

"That's right. Fly, you fool…"

Semargl whimpered, limping towards him. He'd always admired his master, thinking him to be caring and brave when need be. Though, the bravery part was minimal in comparison to his kindness. Still, Merlin cared for Semargl as his animal companion. Ever since he'd wandered into his midsts as a lone wolf scavenging for food, their bond had grown over the few years they'd known one another. It was by Merlin's hand that Semargl was fed, and it was by Semargl's honor that he'd return the favor by protecting him from all that dared to harm him.

Merlin leaned down, extending a hand to Semargl. "Oh, you poor creature. Come, let me heal you, too."

Merlin's hamon restored Semargl's exposed rib muscles, repairing skin and regrowing his gray fur. He was certain the battle with that cat wasn't over. Not by a longshot. This little encounter was just a taste of what was to come. Stepping out of the shadows came Kilmister with that same hawk nose held high, and cold, apathetic sneer plastered on his weathered face. That damned man. There could be no doubt now. Both he and Victoria were untrustworthy. Semargl growled at Kilmister, baring his fangs and tucking his ears back. His front legs bent as if he were ready to lunge forward and rip his throat out. And he wouldn't hesitate. Not for a second.

"You have quite the nerve, taking it upon yourself to maim my Victoria."

"Hey!" Gael snapped, dismissing Cu Chulainn as he stepped forward with a finger pointed at him. "Your bloody cat's the one that attacked my best friend first, so the little fucker deserved it."

"Best friend?" Polnareff murmured.

"Liar." Kilmister said. "I watched the entire thing."

Gael's eyes burned with rage. Nobody called him a liar. Nobody. "What the hell'd you just call me!?"

Merlin extended his hands out to stop him before another act of violence could take place. Luckily, he had managed to stop him with Polnareff's help before Gael could plow right past him.

"I'll knock that nose clean off your ugly face, you decrepit sack of shite! Call me a liar again, I dare ya!"

"Master Callaghan," whispered Merlin, "with all due respect Eva still hasn't eaten yet. There's no need to engage with him, we can eat and then be on our way. Clearly this man is very attached to his feline companion. I'm not fond of his character myself, but please, let's avoid instigating violence."

"Fine, Mr. Ambrose," Gael said, "but I know what the hell I saw. I'm not stupid. That fucking cat attacked Jean first. The dog did what any of us woulda done, if you ask me. So, I don't blame him." Gael jerked his arm away from Polnareff and approached Kilmister, coming nose to nose with him. Kilmister's expression remained emotionless.

"Fuck you and fuck your cat." Gael snarled. "I don't know what the hell you are, or what it is, but I guaran-fuckin'-tee you if it happens again, I won't hesitate to slap the ugly off your face."

"Bold words." Kilmister jeered. "I'm almost amused. Now, if you're finished throwing your tantrum like a sniveling child, I will gladly bring your food to your rooms."

Gael glared as he watched him walk off, retreating back into the darkness without a light to guide his feet. "Pft. Puckered arsehole." he muttered.

"Is something wrong?" Merlin said, directed at Polnareff. Gael turned his attention to them both, noting the way Polnareff stared at his fully healed hand and arm.

"I'm beginning to think we've made a grave mistake coming here." Polnareff replied. "Something about this place irks me. Mr. Mer– err, Mr. Ambrose, you saw what that cat did to my hand."

Merlin nodded. "Seems to me the cat is with-spirit."

"With-spirit?" Gael asked.

Polnareff lowered his hand. "That damn cat is a stand user."

"Yes," Merlin said, "and judging by the daring feat of our friend here, Semargl is, too."

They were looking down at him, Eva included as she walked over. Semargl understood their every word, but he felt neither pride nor timid in their gaze. He was just thankful for Merlin's ability to heal his wounds. The cat got lucky this time, but next time, that disgusting creature wouldn't be so fortunate. He'd make it pay for attacking his company – and that's a solemn promise.