[center][h2][i]You can do it Mikey![/i][/h2][/center]

A man in a vest groaned. Gods it hurt!

He looked at his arm, the magical burn taking the form of angry looking red, a yellow cracks in his skin, at the moment they are glowing bright red white, and he can feel his magical reserves running on fumes almost.

He thought for abit his contribution made.

But how can you say no, when another legend in the industry of myth comes along?

Baba Yaga?

How do you say no to the famous Lady of the Hut?

With a groan, and the help of his diefic friends. He gets to his feet. And reaches into Manabozho's vest pocket, "I know I told you never to let me use it..." A chunk of what looks like some kind of root being held in the Shaman's fingers. Manabozho scrambling to grab it, "But at this point we need the pick me up."

And Micheal crunches down on the root, and swallows the juices created. howling in pain as his magic is partially restored, at the cost of the burn and cracks on his arm, increasing.

Micheal doesn't seem to care at that moment as he picks his tomahawk back up, and carves the Cree Runes for Water and Wind into the ground at his feet, planting his left foor on Water and his Right on Wind, and starts to sing. His gods joining in, as the Shaman begins a buffing ritual, to give his friends that extra physical, mental and emotional push needed to finish this out.