Dummy wasn't a beast who preferred fighting. In fact, the only thing he would rather do was eat. If he could, even under the effects of Fenrir's Wrathful Fury, even under the chaotic battle with his "companions" fighting for their lives. He would have happily kept his face buried in his meal.
Not only was he interrupted, but he was also forced to regurgitate his food.
The attacks had left him with nothing, no chance to eat, no chance to get up, no chance even to roll away and pretend none of this was his problem.
Dummy had never understood emotions or desires besides hunger. But this time he was angry.
His torso opened wider than it had ever done before, and his mouths, located on his hands and face, did as well.
Each one released a roar of madness, a sound so broken it barely resembled anything a living creature should be able to make… And he charged at the troll like a beast who was worthy of being in Fenrir's pack.
