"I will peel its skin from your body, Gabriel." Michael's voice, wretched and angry and frightened, rang out, shaking the trees, as his fingers tightened in the lion's scruff and his Grace tightened the net around its body. "I will pull you out of it bodily if I must. I will re-form you. Do you want me to do that, little brother? It will hurt."

He stopped himself before he said, I don't want to hurt you. Just because it was true didn't mean that Gabriel ought to hear it. It was weakness. Just because this was his brother didn't mean he should show this much sympathy. He was a danger to Taubolt. Gabriel was a danger. Not his brother. A threat.

He lifted the lion bodily 'til all four paws dangled in the air, its tail twisting and thrashing against the dusty ground. "I will climb into your head and make you whole again," he said, throat feeling raw and tight in a way he was sure it wasn't meant to. "I will."