"WHITEY!"
Sausage Neck screamed, a fervent look in his eyes.
Doom. Doom. Doom.
His heavy boots stomped against the whale's body, each step shaking the ground beneath Soren's feet.
Even before the brute reached him, the tremor carried through his bones.
How was he going to deal with Sausage Neck and the Eldritch on his tail?
Soren glanced around. Everyone else was already struggling with their own battles. He wasn't inconsiderate enough to ask for help now.
The three Antibodies had mounted the whale as well, slithering and crawling toward him.
Sausage Neck was fast, appearing before him nearly immediately—hands raised, coming down with that unbelievable punch.
If Soren leapt back to dodge, the antibodies would get him.
But it wasn't as if he hadn't defended against this man's attack before.
He lowered his center of gravity, taking the stance for the Clap hand-to-hand combat technique.
