Her chest hauled at the air, drawing a little oxygen, but not enough to recover equilibrium. Even the little she did get was poisoned by the smell of her enemy, a smell Caspa wondered if she would carry to her death. The frail hound's eyes wanted to close, she noticed with chilly observation. She wanted to lay her head against the wooden wagon and fall asleep as if on the bare floor of her hotel room. She could just wait here for the struggle to all end, giving up her life to change the world. But she knew it would change nothing. Amy had to be stopped. She tried to straighten up again under the approaching gaze of Amy who had a final sort of look in her eyes, unable to escape the crushing constriction in her lungs she could not speak or do much other than writhe and weave pressed against the wood. A hand seized her cranium and Caspa froze, finding the woman with her eyes. There was a delight within that froze her heart. She could not do anything against the strength of that arm but she gave a ferocious, silent snarl, lips drawn back and contorting her whole face with contempt. She lashed out with her feet to try to score into Amy's body in any way possible, although she knew this was only a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. The back of her skull ground into the boards and she was free from the pain at last, slumping into unconsciousness.
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