Ankyra Sound outside a doll, inside a plague

Oh! I had no idea they also claimed the forest, my bad. This is fine — you can go ahead and do whatever to Parthenos, full permissions. (Quietly uses the coast pack to kill toons off, trololol...) Rolled a D15 to see if she's gonna die right now or not: ( 12 ) <-- result.

There was no positive outcome from her bowing nor her begging, and soon enough the stranger had recovered from her run-in with the tree and pivoted to target Parthenos a second time. In her current state (and awkward posing on her back) there was little she could do to stop the relentless attacks; the black-and-white girl was voracious and Parthenos, weak and broken from her her previous toils, could only sit back and take it. She struggled of course — the way a mouse might struggle against the grip of a snake — as teeth caught in her flesh and soon her ragged pelt was further soiled by fresh blood.

Parthenos tried to roll to her feet and had to roll away in order to do so, staggering up to her meager height and would have been turning her back upon Wylla if the girl did not pursue her. The pack wolf did not miss another step though; Parthenos felt the meat of her cheek give way first, then an ear, and though she tried her best to fumble out of the girl's tenacious grip she could only do so much. The wolf gasped and keened a piteous sound, failing helplessly, but did not yet die. She caught herself against a mess of thin but prolific tree growth and fell haphazardly to the forest floor, at which point she began to kick and flail with desperation. 

A part of the siren wished that the plummet from the island had killed her; a part wished in similar fashion that the ill tide that swept her there in the first place had filled her lungs to drown her. Now, although she yearned for it all to be over, the body was in conflict with the rest of her — desiring life, and fighting for an escape.