Session -berz1337-: Hellhound Therapy

[End of log. Chains rattle. A distant, lonely howl echoes through the underworld.]

(simultaneously, in a low, trembling growl) "The bone of a screaming prophet, buried under a weeping mountain, eaten hot."

(leans forward, eyes flickering like dying coals) "Then you do what every hound does when the hunt goes cold, Rustjaw. You howl at the moon until the moon howls back. And then? You chase it. " Hellhound Therapy Session -Berz1337-

"Hungry. Not the good kind. The empty kennel for a millennium kind. He hasn't thrown us a sinner since Tuesday."

"...That's surprisingly wholesome. Have you considered a hobby? Knitting with barbed wire? Competitive howling?" [End of log

(scribbling on a flaming clipboard) "So the core issue is a lack of purpose and an absent authority figure. Let’s try an exercise. I want each of you to finish this sentence: When I hear the word 'home,' I think of…'

"Frustrated. I bit a demon accountant yesterday. Didn't even growl back. Just filed a complaint in triplicate." You howl at the moon until the moon howls back

"Scared." (Gnash and Vex both snap their jaws toward Howl) "What? I said it. I'm scared. If the Master loses his fire… do we just… fade? Turn into stray metaphors for bad decisions?"

"Alright, Rustjaw. Let’s begin. On a scale from ‘smoldering ember’ to ‘total soul-meltdown,’ how are you feeling today?"

(for the first time, a slow, thrumming purr) "...Session's not over, is it, doc?"