He didn’t have the time to see it but Skjoll interposed himself between his chest and the vampire, blocking the undead’s blade with his battleaxe. But she had another blade.

“Skjoll! Move!” cried out Vilkas, pushing his comrade behind him.
<em>She didn’t have weapons earlier!</em> His eyes wandered to her naked arms. She wasn’t holding any weapons.

“What in Oblivion are you?” he breathed out, taking a step back to avoid her strike.

Her arms <em>were</em her weapons. It was like if she had changed her flesh into swords. She cried, her strident scream paralyzing Vilkas. He felt his legs gave up, but Skjoll took him by the arm.
“What are you doing?!”

The ears of the beast were bleeding. She was strong, to hurt his inner wolf like that.

“Stand up, shield brother! We’re not going to Sovngarde tonight!” shouted Skjoll, protecting him from the vampire’s blow. “Stand up, brother! I won’t-“

The cut on his cheek interrupted him. She had extended her blade to touch him! She missed him, hopefully... Or was it a warning? The smell of Skjoll’s blood pulled Vilkas out of his torpor, and his stood up in a second before charging her with a roar of anger. <em>This time</em>, he thought, <emthis time I won’t miss your goddamned head!</em> He hit her with all his strength.

A wolf howled in the distance, soon followed by its pack. A soft breeze blew. Under the moons’s light Vilkas caught the gleam of a platinum strand of hair before it sank through a cloud of hundreds white bats. The wind created by the flap of their wings was so strong that his dark hair rose. He felt his skin being cut. He heard the metal of his armour shriek. A hundred cuts and a hundred shrieks, as numerous as the white bats flew away. Disoriented, he let his greatsword fall on the ground. He felt his skin shiver, the blood leaking out from his face. <em>What did just happen?</em>

Then he heard the cries of Skjoll. And he saw <em>it</em>. His blood boiled in both fear and excitement. He didn’t know what it was, but it excited the beast inside of him.

Skjoll didn’t seem to be afraid by <em>it</em>. His battleaxe was ripping through the air as it avoided his blow, and he burst into a Nord chant of battle.

“Fighting on as one as the ghosts of our fallen brothers sing! Fighting in our darkest hours as their faces haunt our dreams! Like one heart we will send our enemy to his end!"

“Shor don’t open your gates” shouted Vilkas, joining him in battle.

Their foe struck them with a spell and Vilkas felt the blood that was pouring out of his wounds being sucked through the air.

“FUCKING-LICH!” roared Skjoll.

Their veins were bubbling, blowing up their skin, before splintering up because of the spell. The renewed of her forces seemed to delight the vampire – although Vilkas really doubted that it was really the same creature they were fighting earlier.

“ ‘cause we will vanquish the enemy!” shouted Skjoll, his battleaxe viciously ripping her body.

It skin very pale, of a grey nearly white. Curved horns, similar to a buck one grew out on the side of her head. Huge black wings could be seen on her back, but he doubt she could really used them to fly: their leather was shredded and odd enough, black feathers fell from them too.

“Tonight Sovngarde can still wait for me!” Growled the two Companions, striking her arms.

Her fingers ended in long, black claws that made Vilkas think about his own. Her face was still human though, her features slightly sharper and her fangs more visible.

“The golden fields of the end “ His greatsword just missed her head.

He recognised the platinum colour of her mane as he cut a lock in their previous fight.

“We’ll see them another day!”

She reminded him of that statue of a daedra lord with wings he saw long time ago, in a perverted, evil form of course.

“ ‘cause tonight we won’t die!”

“Sovngarde can still wait for me!”