When the others had raced off to the Crystal Room, Ara had stayed behind to defend the ones still left. They still hid in the closet and Ara fought off any Shadow that tried to get too close. He seemed to be succeeding, with no Shadow that got within more than a meter of him staying alive for more than a few seconds before they were rent apart with his huge claws.
But slowly, gradually, he was losing.
As more and more Shadows advanced on him from all sides, Ara started to slow. He couldn't strike them as hard, nor dodge their retaliations as fast. As a result, his sinewy flanks were covered in small gashes and abrasions. Sweat coated him and his sides wer heaving as he threw another Shadow off that tried to jump onto the wardrobe.
He couldn't keep this up forever. He'd die if he tried.
He'd probably die anyway, come to think of it.
But no way in hell was he giving up. If these monsters wanted his friends they'd do so over his cold dead corpse! He wasn't running out on anyone else, never!
With a furious shriek, he lunged at another Shadow, determined to fight this battle to the end.
Whatever the cost.