flash_on
"I've seen how you demons express your love; it's with scars and violence." Fréa snarls, gritting her teeth againts the pain.
She spreads her wings and flexes them, powerfully, the resultant burst of wind creating a barrier seperating them from the rest of the battle.
Fréa twists away, her fingers hooking against something. She pulls, and looks down at her hand to see Malacin's mask. She tosses it away, looking at. . . at. . .
She shook her head, confused. "But- wait. No. It isn't possible for angels to become demons and have children."