Isopia could feel something in her mind slither away in recoil as her stones found their target. Virgil had managed to move enough so that the stones missed his head (allowing him to remain conscious), but the dull thud of their impact against his coat was unmistakable, even in the dying light. Isopia, not one for emotions, felt compelled to cry out for him. The lack of screams was unnerving, and though it appeared as though Virgil was once again trying to smile, the pain that etched the liens of his body were clear.

He spoke, and as the first notes of his voice hit her ears, she thought he was going to ask her to stop. To cry off this abominable fight so that he could live out the remainder of his days, and leave dying to a future version of himself. But that was not so. He seemed distracted, (or was he egging her on?), asking about Hubris. Distractedly, Isopia let her golden gaze move towards the bronze creature, who returned her stare with a bewildered one of his own.

"He is not one for fighting." She replied tersely. Silently Isopia tried to decide if Virgil was mentioning Hubris as a way of including him in the battle, so that perhaps all this would end sooner? Or was it merely the addled thoughts of a dying man?

Did it matter?

Isopia swallowed, her eyes now focused on the phantom shape moving towards her once again. She did not want to fight this thing. She didn't want this fight at all. How was she supposed to kill a man, made of flesh and blood, when he used ghosts and the bones of those already dead as his weapons? Rearing up, Isopia tried to strike out at the ghost, eager to see if it could be injured by physical assaults. As she expected, her hooves sailed right through it, and Virgil's clumsily-aimed attack found her wither. Because of their close proximity the blade acted more like a club than a knife, and although blood did not trickle down her shoulders, she did feel an ache as the force of the ghost's attack reverberated through her spine.

Deciding to switch her tactics, Isopia charged towards Virgil. Her intention was to gauge the right side of his body (the left had clearly already taken a beating), with her horns. She would pull the flesh from his bones if he could, if only to speed up this process. Once again as she charged, similiar to when she had thrust the rocks towards him only moments ago, something like hesitation threatened to blur her vision. It didn't matter of course, he was near enough that even with her eyes tightly shut she would still likely hit him, but the feeling was odd. It was disconcerting.

Isopia was not a creature who normally felt things, and that was especially true given that her memories of Volterra had been removed. Even when she did feel things, rarely was the type of feelings that could compel her to act. And yet her she was, considering closing her eyes to hide from the actions she had rationally decided to undertake.