Pyro hesitated to act.
It wasn't fear. It was calculation.
He could flood the street with fire and end it in seconds—but Don was right there, and though he could likely bare it, the child in his arms wouldn't.
Pyro's jaw tightened as flames moved higher around his shoulders, his body already primed to burn everything in that direction if it came down to it.
He was ready to make that choice.
Luckily, Don moved first.
The hound still had his fist in its mouth, teeth locked down hard enough to grind bone. Don opened his hand inside the creature's throat and clamped down on its tongue.
The thing shrieked.
Don twisted left with his full weight behind it, yanking the creature off the ground and swinging it like a blunt weapon. Its body slammed into another hound—CRASH~—both tumbling across broken pavement.
