[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HX9chmu.png[/img][/center] No organs either. A monster through and through, more far gone than even the spawn of the Elder Beasts. Or maybe it was just a slime. Hah. A slime, in this weather? A dozen tentacles shot out, and Atzi, with no recourse for retreat whilst Vammy was making her own way out, charged forwards as well. One caught her by the wrist, but without any joints to lock and reinforce its position, it meant nothing. Indeed. That was the thing about tentacles, about appendages without bones. In the face of unexpected motions, it could not snap in any direction like a hinge. Like a fist connected to a wrist connected to an elbow connected to a shoulder. And though one caught her wrist, the others simply went past her, the skewering points missing. They settled onto her body instead, dragging against her skin like heavy chains, and Atzi could feel the tendons of her injured leg strain at the weight she bore. So what though? The faceless, bodyless, soulless freak had approached her, and she had approached it. Gotten up so close now that they were face to face, and getting even closer from there. If she could get behind him, the length of his tentacles would make it impossible to do anything expediently! If she could get there, she could grab him by the waist and suplex his ugly mug six feet underneath the permafrost! Her blood surged a third time, empowered by fury as she struggled against the sheer mass of eldritch flesh! But Atzi was only human. Her wounds didn’t regenerate in an instant, and her muscles, not her bloodline, was the source of her strength. She stalled, one meter away, her body almost entirely enclosed by those impossible appendages. Ribs, crushing. Lungs, squeezing. Air, burning. And still, the cultist approached, arrogant in his victory. Her club had no room to swing. Her knife had no room to stab. And it squeezed tighter still, the edges of her vision blackening. Closer now. Closer. She didn’t even have the breath to speak now, but as he entered [i]her[/i] range, Atzi had a simple two word phrase in mind. She dropped her knife. Caught it with her foot. Kicked it up into his throat. And as the blade bit in, she twisted sideways with all her strength, leveraging all that she could to pry his head right off his shoulders.