Claws dripping with blood, One of Legion approached the last house whose rigid lines were not being corrected by fire or reinstated decay.
There was one defender left, tiny, growling and snarling. The Legions could almost appreciate dogs in their variety, but for their warped minds. This dog was not dissuaded from attacking One of Legion by a dull swat sending it flying, but attacked again, biting. It held on, even though ichor burned its maw.
One of Legion sliced it in half, adding a little to the Legion’s loathing of humankind’s spoiling the world. Animals usually had better sense.