Baird caught another, the braggart whose intent was to rape and steal from a precious Druid female and leaned down next to his ear. “There will be no Druid flesh to plunder, to rob from this life,” he said as the priest thrashed under his knee and Baird leaned closer still, until his lips were a hairsbreadth from the priest's ear. Then he tore it off, blood spray being caught in Baird's mouth and gulped as it shot out like a geyser. When the flow slowed, Baird plowed into his neck, tearing the head away from the stem of his body just as a feminine alarm sounded.
A cry of such terror and betrayal it was nearly electric in its consequence, making Baird simultaneously jerk away from the dead priest and sprint to the location of the noise.
The smell of the female. Her fear and magick pulling him like a magnet to that location.
Baird ran to her....