Nephthys (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} lady_of_night) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} forgotten_gods, |
Nephthys felt the blow and her head flew back, but the pain was a thing she needed to fight. With a growl she flew at him again, moving faster than she thought she was capable of any more. (In San Fransisco the coven knew she needed their strength and they - along with Andres - had been praying and offering since this began.)
He'd bloodied her nose and she could taste in on her lips, but somehow that only urged her onwards. She had no desire for witty banter, no wish to hear her own voice. All she wanted was this creature dead and out of her husband.
She hadn't truly used a sword for centuries and yet this morning nothing felt more natural than the swing of the khopesh in her hand.