Shayla saw the wolf pounce the creature they fought, relief flicking in her mind far below the seriousness that drove her forward. Roshan--as the wolf undoubtedly was--managed to join the fight, so she felt no fear that she lost a friend already or was abandoned in a fight. She wouldn't fault someone who ran away, but she didn't need that right now. Now, she needed loyal allies.

Not slowing down as she reached the creature, she reached out and grasped hold of one of the horns. The creature thrashed, but even though it had started to shift away from Shayla, the force of the wolf that had barreled into him seemed to keep it still. Or at least still enough for Shayla to brace her feet and pull. For a wild second, she felt sure that he theory turned out false and she would die. She would die right now and take Roshan down with her because the wolf being dared to help her. But, after one last yank, she felt the pressure she'd been fighting give way. Shayla stumbled back, black sculpted leather and horn still in her grasp.

The creature fell to the ground, collapsing into a little pile with a pained cry that didn't sound the least bit demonic. No, nothing about him looked demonic at all. Black hair fluttered around his tanned face, eyes so pale they almost looked white in the weird darkening sky of El'Saria. Shayla looked down to the mask in her hand, shocked at the sharp contrast between its twisted features and the smooth ones of the being at her feet. She'd been right. Somehow, she pulled away its mask and now...now the creature's armor disappeared into tufts of smoke that left only black rags covering the young man's frame.

"I...this can't be..." Shayla murmured, awe coloring her voice. "He doesn't look any different from us." But if that was so, then what was he and why had he come from the sky?