Absurdly, it wasn't the sudden burst of defensive energy that made Michael's heart clench with fear; it was the precarious way in which Gabriel was leaping down the slope. He followed and circled, faster than the eye could follow, feet not quite touching the ground, distracted as he was. Merlin followed more slowly, cursing and recasting, weaving the net tighter and with more fire to it.

Once ahead of the lion at the bottom of the slope, Michael quietened himself, letting his Grace die down as low as it could 'til it burned like embers in the center of him. He sent out a message of love and hope and, above all, sternness.

Little brother. Stop this.