Even's nose wrinkled as Szayel finished the creature off, not relishing the noise of the organs squelching wetly onto the ground beneath it. It was unpleasant and he sort of hoped he hadn't damaged any organs on the way through. That would have a very negative effect on the meat. Blech.

He felt Aerith's hand on him and dismissed his shield. "It's lucky you're an Ice subtype then," Even said sharply, addressing Szayel.

He turned to Aerith once her grip loosened, feeling a little sympathetic. She wasn't one to relish a fight or the killing of an animal, not even for food.

"You won't need to be present for another hunting excursion," he said, quietly, to keep Szayel out of it.