[center][h2][color=662d91]Roxanna[/color][/h2][/center]

There was a reason that people tended to refer to battle as a 'tide'. Some were easy to read with the outcome decided months before any given day, but others were faster and more chaotic. It wasn't a great analogy, but Roxanna had more important things to focus on at the moment than stray thoughts and philosophic bullshit.

Kicking the wendigo that she had stabbed in the chest directly in the head and hearing a sickening but final sounding crack of bone, silencing it as it dropped. It being dead wasn't as important as it not being a threat at [i]this[/i] moment in time since there were at least three others waiting for the chance to strike. The psychic distraction seemed to have faded in that while the urge to fill the unending void was ever present the desire for warm, human flesh seemed to have won out over mindless gluttony. 

The sounds of gunfire was a welcome one, but the exact source of it was a mystery at the moment since one of the freakish monsters decided to try and take a bite out of her thigh. While her attire was more then up to the task of stopping the bite from actually doing any harm (Yay!), an issue quickly arose in that the damn thing's teeth was stuck in the fabric, causing her to be in a rather hindered position that the other two would almost certainly try to take advantage of. 

Without pausing to think, Roxanna threw both of her arms to the sides before bringing the palms her hands back together hard and fast in what might have under other circumstances been a clap... with joints where the wendigo's lower jaw connected to the rest of its skull being in between. The plan was simple; Break or dislocate the lower jaw with the opening strike, grasp the lower jaw with both hands and with a hard yank combined with a solid knee to the wendigo's throat...

There was a bony crunch as the wendigo stumbled backwards, its roars of pain and anger currently little more then wheezing and coughing as it tried to regain its breath while its long, seemingly rotten tongue hang limp without a lower jaw to hide it. Granted the damn lower jaw was still lodged in Roxanna's dress and hung off it like some dark, gothic fashion statement (and to be fair it did rather suit the style the black dress rather nicely), it did free her up to leap after the now wounded deer headed creature. 

Leap was the key word, in that she launched herself up in order to stamp one foot down against its shoulder for balance (with what was clearly the wet sound of bone covered by muscle and skin shattering underneath) while grabbing both of its antlers at the base of the skull for control as the knee of her other leg delivered an uppercut directly under the wendigo's 'nose' and causing the skull (and thus the rest of the creature's head) to jerk upwards. With an unrelenting grip and having weakened the beast's body, the second foot was slammed into the until now uninjured shoulder before Roxanna tightened her hold on the skull and started to pull upwards while pushing down with her legs. 

There was a few moments of weakened struggling from the wendigo that made the scene look like a bull riding contest at a rodeo... but with an unholy tearing sound and a spray of black, rotten blood Roxanna ripped its head clean off, kicking off the torso in the process to do a small flip in midair to land unsteadily on her feet. She did not look amused. "[color=662d91]Gods damn it! I just did did laundry earlier today.[/color]" anyone with sensitive hearing might have heard a mumbled "[color=662d91][i]Fucking blood stains.[/i][/color]" as she threw the head in a random direction to focus on the rest of the fight.