Elayra’s gaze darkened at Ghent’s request for a different weapon. Her hand twitched, wanting desperately to reclaim the weapon and demonstrate exactly what damage a ‘kinda small’ dagger could inflict. 
	The kris dagger’s wavy blue blade glinted indignantly at the comment as he examined it, turning it over just right so it caught a brave spear of remaining light.
	“How slow [i]are[/i] you?” she growled when he questioned what he could do. His disbelieving expression made her want to punch him. But, then, practically everything he did made her want to punch him.
	Her eyes narrowed at his following questions. “Seeing as you’ve knocked out [i]the only person[/i]” her head jerked irritably toward Drust, “who could’ve probably answered that, you’ll have to shut your eyes and wing it. That’s what you did earlier, isn’t it?” she scoffed. “So stop gawking and—” Her attention snapped to her right. She stumbled away, ready to push Ghent back with her if he did not move fast enough, as a translucent, wispy figure blinked into existence only a couple feet from them.
	Its back hunched forward, it gripped its midsection as if in pain. Its body spasmed as its form glitched in and out of existence. A powdery pallor coated its garments, its form covered in leather armor. Dark streaks dripping down half its face made it impossible to get a decent look at its features.
	Elayra turned and raised her sword, her thundering heart jumping into her throat.
	The masculine form tilted its head back and let out a long, pained howl that merged into manic laughter. Another series of spasmic blinks wracked its form, like a video game character gone wrong. It vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, making the eerie silence it left in its wake that much more unnerving.
	“Get trying!” Elayra hissed with a new panic. “Unless you want to be skinned alive by earthbound ghosts!”