The mole lay dead on the ground, and her familiars roared at their prey in victory before releasing the dead flesh and stepping back. They pinned the large alien with their stare, as if sizing the protoss up, before finally turning their attention away and heading back towards their master.

"You fight well," Cybele said while raising a hand up to run through the thick mane of the first lion. Smirking, her gaze remained trained on Zeratul. "For a big fell'a."