[center][IMG]http://i.imgur.com/fiENFjt.png[/IMG][/center]

A product of...well, actually Daisy had no idea when or where or why or how or to whom she'd been born, but she could guess. 

So. A product of that generation so prone to distractibility, Daisy (or perhaps the elf, or, more likely the both of them), was fortunate in that she was watching Veti work with the Wight (surprise, surprise, another traitorous move) instead of whatever the fuck it was the necromancer had done to her dog. She turned her attention to her otherwise markedly independent hellhound, just in time to see him roll to overlarge, soot-black paws and bounce over to her, tongue lolling in what was undoubtedly a toothy grin. He'd left Old Guy and the elf -- the hell was she doing there? -- behind him, clearly quite pleased in whatever part of the rescue he'd had. 

Daisy rolled her eyes. 

"I suppose you'll be expecting a belly rub and a new toy?" she said drily. "Well, I've got news for you. Your best bet at that is playing with Dead Thing #2," Daisy hurled an accusing finger at Veti and her new partner in crime, "so we are giving her the silent treatment. Now -- " 

[b][i]DONG[/i][/b]

Daisy winced at the sudden, somewhat out-of-place sound, and only then seem to realized she stood just slightly off-center of a vortex of sand, noise, and gunfire she'd chosen not to take part it. God(dess)Bird, Part Deux had told them that all was required was sneaking past the giant dog statues, and as both were reasonably occupied, she figured she could be in and gone again before this absurd game of dog-and-wolf-and-mouse-and-other was half finished. 

And she might have, too, were it not for the Graphite Giant playing the martyr, like everyone in this stupid group seemed apt to do. 

She stared idly for a minute, while Artie sat beside her on giant haunches, scratching at a balding, bloody patch of fur, wondering what would happen if the rock monster crushed the silver guy. An image filled her head of a little girl drawing a picture, sharing colored pencils with friends or classmates. 

No one ever used the black pencil. 

She was moving before she really knew what was happening, Artie loping along beside her, looking for all the world like he was chasing after one of Veti's tennis balls. He skidded to a stop beside the Graphite Giant, stooping slightly to wriggle a massively muscled beneath the wrong edge of the blade, before offering up his own impressive strength against the statue. Fur and flesh began to smoke at once, eliciting a low, warning growl from the hellhound. Daisy kept her face impassive as her gut twisted with something dangerously close to concern. 

"Hey, C-3PO," she called to the Aluminum Asshole, as the ducked to plant herself behind the statue, "if you get my dog killed, I will fucking [i]end[/i] you."

Then, invisible Scythe in hand, she tucked herself under the leg the statue had used to catch itself. 'Decay' would not be nearly so useful here as it was in Death. But catching the dog-thing off balance had worked pretty nicely the first time, and if it wasn't broke, there was no reason to fix. 

She touched the tip of the Scythe, still invisible to anyone but herself and Artie...and maybe the Wight, to the sandstone interior of the statue's leg. There was a single, scalding flash of light, and then the stone began to crumble into dust.