The rebuff sent the lion flying back, twisting in the air; he didn't land on his feet, quite, and staggered instead. The feel of Michael's Grace was like a fire. The lion howled and shied away, but the memories hit like knives and with a whimper he stumbled.
As if the lion's instincts and mind were a thin veil the memories cut through them, and for a few moments the turbulence of Gabriel's mind rolled in every direction. It was almost a literal maelstrom, a seething mess of guilt and fear and hopelessness, dark enough that touching it made the sun seem to dim. But for just a moment, the sharpness of Michael's Grace burned away the despair until--
'Michael!'
--Gabriel's voice whispered through it, half on a sob and half on a wail. Whining in pain, the lion staggered uncomprehendingly away and into Merlin's net.
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As if the lion's instincts and mind were a thin veil the memories cut through them, and for a few moments the turbulence of Gabriel's mind rolled in every direction. It was almost a literal maelstrom, a seething mess of guilt and fear and hopelessness, dark enough that touching it made the sun seem to dim. But for just a moment, the sharpness of Michael's Grace burned away the despair until--
'Michael!'
--Gabriel's voice whispered through it, half on a sob and half on a wail. Whining in pain, the lion staggered uncomprehendingly away and into Merlin's net.