With every throb of pain there came a sickening feeling that this was increasingly looking like her last moments. She had to hand it to the monstrosity; he sure knew how to beat a girl. Yet, as the searing slash enflamed from her side, she found herself thinking of ways to survive rather than ways to win. There was surely no winning this battle, even now Ghost could feel her body beginning to wain as she dimmed to nothing but a flickering ember of her former self, but dying here seemed to serve no purpose. No. It would be better to survive now and torment them later. Perhaps, one day, the ground would stain red with the blood of her enemies and nuisances rather than her own blood. The banshee would have to wait for that moment, however, because she had made the mistake of imprudence and so this, blood-strewn body, was her punishment and her lesson.

By now, the thoughts of being a young child were beginning to wear off and her stiff, stone-like bones were slowly coming back to life. That wasn’t before his mutt of a dog decided to launch for her wing and Ghost, still weary from the affects of the magic, only managed to lift her wing up enough for damage limitation. The bitch, however, did catch the side of her plumed appendage and took a mouth full of white and red feathers with her. The sprite visibly winced at the sharpness of the sudden pain, but it soon dulled compared to the more vigorous wound that hounded her side. The long gash caused by the amber-eyed pillager’s armour was deepest near the shoulder and would surely leave a mark. As if to add more insult to injury, her brave efforts to at least try scar the hairy fuckup in her last ditch attempt, with her horn carelessly bared, did nothing but bounce of his gaudy armour! Battered, hurt and quite uncaring by now, Ghost began to laugh with imbued cynicism and contemplated possibilities that she might have either been cursed or just given an ill fate. It only made her want to survive this even more, if nothing, to simply spite the world. If it was going to spit in her face then she at least wanted the opportunity to spit back.

Time ticked and the battle raged on, Archibald was not one for having a breather apparently, he was already upon her. This was it. Perhaps the only opening she would get for the rest of the battle. The hooves that bore down on her may connect with a shuddering thud, but maybe this time just maybe her horn would find its way through. Feeling a little more movement returning to her, Ghost let the harsh hooves crack against her chest in and lowered her head. Sleek and black, yearning for blood, her horn was aimed upon the beast like a hungry lance. Her breath had been utterly taken away through the impact of his over-sized feet and the magic she had cast seemed not to have an effect.

However, burning against her chest was an amulet, the green one that represented the Earth God. If Ghost still had breath to talk with she might have made some sarcastic quip about the elderly gent finally doing something. In all of Ghost’s reign she had only met him once and that was to see Midas’ ascension. Now, using the last remnants of her energy, she cast the amulet down from her necklace, not really fully understanding its protection, but not really caring. It left just two symbols around her neck, two amulets left and both were dark.

Moon Amulets.

How ironic.

[WC: 617 | 2/3
AMG TIME don't go easy yeah ;D <333

*uses Earth Amulet*]