Artemis looked ahead to Glamerspear's little open-topped fighting compartment. The wooden planks of the upper hull still bore the three-hoof-long gouge of the Bradamante Lance, when her control slipped for just a moment and the tip dug in. The scar deepened on its way towards her comrade's position, before withdrawing perilously close to the opening. A split-second longer and that scratch would have continued along her helmet -- or worse, if she hadn't ducked.