Classical Conditioning.

Aresenn watched the transformation with a guarded satisfaction, the tide of fear retreating to reveal a tempest of fury. The spark he'd felt within her had kindled into a blazing inferno. He let her go when she pulled away, standing tall and defiant in the mouth of the den. His expression hardened as he listened to her words echo into the dark abyss, his heart pounding in response to the raw power emanating from her.

Then came a laugh, chilling and distant. It rolled back towards them like a cold wind, ruffling Aresenn's fur and making his blood run colder still. For an instant, he faltered, staring into the inky void as his hackles raised. His insides twisted with a strange mixture of dread and anticipation. He swallowed, his throat dry. But then he caught Absinth's gaze, saw her seeking reassurance from him. That was enough. His heart steadied and he lifted his chin, stepping up to stand by her side at the mouth of the den. His gaze blazed with a wild determination, matching the fury in her own. "He hears you," he growled, his voice echoing into the dark abyss that housed their adversary. The confidence oozed from his every word, painting an image of unwavering bravery against the face of immeasurable odds. "And he'll hear a hell of a lot more before we’re done with him ... Then he will hear no more."

He turned towards her then, a challenge flashing in his eyes. Aresenn was never one to shy away from conflict – in fact, he thrived in it. He squirmed under the suffocating hold of her subsiding terror and let his anger consume him, just as Absinth had done. This was their fight. And he was ready to stand with her till the end.

"Aresenn Praetor"