Even in the midst of this, while blood drained from Drake's face and his heart tried to escape his chest, Drake at least made sure the collapsing priest didn't go toppling off the couch and onto the floor. He could feel... something brush against him. Tentacles?

Really?

The King of White Gryphon hissed out a curse in his own tongue, and pulled the shielding ring from a hidden pocket in his robe, sliding it onto his finger hastily. Just a little Gods-crafted shielding to go over the top of his own. His body was in peril too, but it could be fixed easier than his mind!

He gripped his leg with one hand and the back of the couch with the other, knuckles pale under the strain, and just... endured. The instincts in all humans that told them to run from such horrors had been beaten out of him a long time ago, so he just stayed where he was, observed, and tried to keep the bile down.

Drake was one of the Star-Eyed's people. He would not be swallowed by the dark.