She makes for the beast with a flourish of wings, war hammer held in a cerulean glow. One of the hydra’s remaining heads snaps at her, and she dodges to the left before bringing the hammer down on its neck. There’s a crunch, then a bang as Anon fires his gun. It’s a primitive thing, a Griffon matchlock brought over in a technology exchange, but it certainly does the job, and is sturdy enough to survive when Anon charges the hydra with a bayonet. 