When the stallion had told her that he would not willingly submit his soul to the afterlife, that it would have to be taken from him so as not to overstep any religious obligations imposed on him, he hadn't been kidding.

With death so close, Isopia would have thought for sure that his life would be in his own hands. Surely, with more and more of his fleeting life escaping with every shallow breath there was some switch - a button, a light, a door - to push, turn off, or walk through, such that her work was done. He was very nearly dead, and yet would not die.

As his body tumbled towards the earth, Isopia took a step forward without being fully conscious of what she was doing. It was only as shale and ash flew towards her face that she realized that perhaps the fight was not yet over. One stone, likely a hardened piece of lava rather than granite and coated with volcanic ash and dust, flew towards her eye, striking her in the black centre of her amber gaze. Pain rocketed deep in her brain as black circles spiralled outwards from her unseeing left eye. Defensively she closed both and stepped backwards, heading shaking unsteadily. Had that really been necessary? Somewhere inside of herself the regret and uncertainty she had felt had been replaced with rage. She was going this stallion a favour, and now she had potentially been blinded for her efforts.

Hesitantly she opened her left eye only to feel tears begin to pour out of it. Immediately she closed it again, knowing that she was not blind. Her anger dissipated as sounds croaked from Virgil's lips. Unsure of whether or not she should come near to him - whether or not he had any remaining tricks up her sleeve - she perked her ears forward trying to catch and piece together what it was he was saying.

Though perhaps he wasn't saying anything at all. Perhaps this was just what dying sounded like. 

That familiar blackish feeling of reservation crept over her, as she stared down at Virgil. He was so serene looking, so helpless. Now that she had time to think about it, she wasn't sure what she should do. Seconds away from death, Isopia knew that almost anything she could do to him would push him over the edge and into the unknown eternity that he sought. Even so, she felt paralyzed. Did she owe him more? Should her final attack of him be one that he could be proud of, if indeed there was a life after this in which he could feel pride?

Swallowing hard, Isopia looked into the darkness searching for Hubris. However with one eye closed and darkness all around them, there was no chance of seeing him. She groped mentally for him, and found him far closer than she would have thought. Flying, silently again, the dragonlingly moved towards Virgil. He did not appear hesitant or afraid, and landed close to the greying body. Hubris turned to look towards Isopia, his eyes full of confidence and sorrow. Extending a clawed hand, the dragon tried to place it reassuringly on Virgil's shoulder, offering a melodic trill that extended into some sort of song. As he reached the final note, he again sent a blast of electricity towards the stallion, though this time it was aimed at his head.