As the pact partners saw the issue with Dillon and Puce resolved, they hurried towards an exit, readying themselves for battle. They passed groups of people huddled together, either crying or shaking. Caim's face shifted in confusion, but Angelus forced him ahead, feeling a heavier air about her. Something was wrong with the air about them. Not so much it's composition, but it's weight. She couldn't quite put her finger (talons?) on it. Shaking off the thought, the dragon focused upon the task at hand. The monster creating this field needed to go down.
Arriving in her full splendor, the dragon felt the effects of the wave more-so than she did upon the ship. Like the Wyrm before, the dragon had felt fear in the presence of this thing. Something about it was... Ancient. More than the other before it, the dragon almost felt pity for this beast; being a spirit of nature.
The dragon would have mused more on the subject, but she heard Caim's voice cut into her mind, "Angelus, we don't have time to feel pity or scared of this damned thing! Let's move!"
She only shook her head as she flew head on into another enemy.
"You've no respect for anything sacred, do you?"