Just then, a figure shot into the air, or rather levitated, her presence blazing like a torch in the dark.
She wore a flowing red dress that shimmered like flames, Timothy couldn't quite tell if it was truly on fire or just enchanted to appear so.
Her crimson hair matched the intensity of her outfit, and a small salamander rested calmly on her shoulder.
Helen had assumed the form he remembered, elegant, commanding, and otherworldly.
She flew toward him, who at that moment, was clinging to the trunk of a massive tree, a machete buried into its bark supporting his weight.
He leaned against the tree to reduce the strain on his arms, but the position was far from comfortable.
Timothy barely spared her a glance, his gaze fixed instead on the monstrous spider.
His thoughts were racing, he didn't need to kill it alone.
He just needed to get close enough to cut Gray loose and keep him out of sight.
If Helen could buy him even a few seconds, it would be enough.
