Mistletoe's choice of waiting may have well been what doomed her. The cold around her intensified by the second and by the time the Jailor had closed in for her tactic to spring off, she found her limbs much too heavy to deliver nearly as many strikes as she would have wanted. And even those that she could do, she found ghastly hands grabbing her, slowing down the strikes further. Realising the futility of the attempted she went right on into step two of her plan, diving for her body down on the ground. In even that endeavour, the hands tried to stop her, but for now they were too weak. She punched her hands back into where they belonged, as well as kicked her feet into place. The familiar feeling of a beating heart and a rising chest returned to her as the basic bodily functions resumed in her consciousness.

She jumped to her feet, only to catch a projectile that snapped on impact to the back of her head and sent her back to the ground. Of course, that had been from the gargoyles behind her. They had finally joined back in. But on the other hand, they were not the only ones that joined the combat. From the door, a creature had skulked to the battlefield without anyone's notice. It's jet black fur waved in the gentle breeze coming from the outside as it raised and lowered its claws, sending a booming roar forth from its maw. Wolfwing was back.

The Jailor's reaction was immediate, the blue flames of its body flashed brightly before vanishing as it curled back into the statue it had been when first encountered. The Gargoyles followed suit, curling up and falling to the ground. Unfortunately, the flame that had represented Derrick's soul was gone just as well, the male hunter joining the magical being in this so called 'Narrow Maze' it called it's home. But the vanishing of an adversary hardly was the salvation Mistletoe had been seeking, the creature she had originally set out to hunt descending upon her, crashing their clawed hand around her neck.

There was little doubt about it: The creature would not be too likely to repeat the earlier show of 'mercy' by imprisoning her. Their claws sunk into her flesh, choking the hunter. Their might was overpowering, their threatening growl serving even further to drive her despair home. If the last situation had been difficult to get out of, now... now she could see none. This was the end. What had roused the beast from its slumber, she couldn't be sure of. Had it been an unfortunate coincidence, or mayhaps actions she herself had done? But in the end, how would this death differ from what the other hunter had faced? That Mistletoe would never know.


And thus ends the tale of the adventure of the three hunters. One of them chose survival over solidarity, the remaining two perished together, at least only a few metres apart if nothing else. The mysteries behind the beast, the deity the Jailor seemed to serve or the house might never come to daylight... but on the other hand, would trying to figure them out have been worth the risk?

[@Dusksong][@Lord of Evil]