Smashing Shaun

Havermouth, Six and a Half Years Before

Rhett rolled up his sleeves as he walked towards the group of humans. He knew that Heath and Cameron were following, letting him take the lead. They hadn’t questioned why they were bearing down on Shaun Bascall – that Rhett had told them that the human needed a pounding was enough for them. It was the first time Rhett had instigated a fight, though by no means the first time that he’d fought alongside of them.

The humans around Shaun Bascall saw their approach and read their body language well, panic sliding across their faces as they debated just who Rhett was there for.

Shaun was slow to respond, his eyes puzzled just before they became wary. “Hey, Rhett.”

“You know why the f-k we’re here,” Rhett growled at him, the hunch of his shoulder straining the fabric of his shirt and his hands fisted at his side. He snarled, showing the sharpness of his canines and premolars – a signal that humans did not identify the same way as a supernatural would,