One part horror show and another part cookout, it should be no surprise that introducing fire to combat produced, to say the least, an atypical reaction.

"Aaaawwwwwww. Fluuuuuvvvvvvvvv."

Karambit's disappointment could be measured by the sheer length of its low wail. Antennae drooped as it lowered closer to its seat in the stands, and hunching over, mandibles flexed and forelegs crossed in a monstrous approximation of a child's pout. The strings of drool pouring from numerous jaws made the image no better, an involuntary response to the rising aroma of grilled flesh.

If only Effluvium had lasted longer instead of retreating to its pretty stone shelter. It'd so wanted to greet it after Creo.

But still, praise was due for the clever sibling. "Crrrrreeeeeoooo! Verrrrry goood!"

The hatred between parent and offspring had escaped it entirely, so topsy-turvy was its perspective. Used to associating violence with affection, squeals had encouraged the limbs littering the arena, and though it cared, Creosote's screams had elicited bafflement as much as concern. Would it have known the true extent of the distress below, perhaps it'd have been keen to descend and embrace its kin. Perhaps its bulk might have been used to protect it from the blinding lights and that ghastly golden crown.

That was the plight of this monster though: obliviousness, to its own suffering and to others'. A shame, as its heart was so large.