The anger flashed in the poltergeist’s eyes, anger that had built over many years. Of that, Morgan was certain. The chill was starting to get to her now as frost formed upon her increasingly raw skin. She swallowed hard and stood her ground. Her eyes rose quickly to the trees as the wind picked up suddenly from beyond the circle, the leaves rustling more and more loudly as the force of the wind continued to shake the limbs. Her eyes went to the candles, but they had not been lit mundanely. They had been lit with magic - old magic that wasn’t powerful enough to be considered much more than a parlor trick, but which was certainly strong enough to resist such mundane forces as ordinary wind. Still, the flames<span style="font-style: italic">did</span>flicker and the wind was only growing stronger - and sharper. It was within but a few breaths that her dress was flowing like water and her legs required actual effort to remain standing. She could feel the slice of that wind against her flesh as her eyes returned to the poltergeist, small cuts starting to form here and there. It was a wonder her dress hadn’t yet torn.<br/><br/>The poltergeist was walking again, this time with purpose. Its head was lowered, its eyes menacing, its lips curled into a snarl. It didn’t seem to be even slightly affected by the wind, yet as the spell progressed, it slowly became stiffer. The edges were completely blurred now and the rest of the poltergeist was just starting to waver, like someone slowly losing their vision. It gritted its teeth and threw both its hands forward now, its fingers outstretched as though to pierce Morgan like knives; she didn’t give it a chance to grasp her heart or tear the blood from her body, however. She threw her left palm out toward the approaching poltergeist, her arm shaking from the force of the wind; her eyes were just barely opened now, though she dared not look away.<br/><br/>“UOY EVAH ON REWOP EREH,” she declared, her voice barely audible above the wind, “ROF UOY ERA ENIM OT DNAMMOC!”<br/><br/>The poltergeist slowed its advance and its arms lost their conviction, yet they did not lower and it did not stop. She shouted the command again, just as forcefully, and it stopped the second time. When she shouted a third time, its arms faltered and started to lower. It was completely blurry now, and the fog had grown somewhat more visible; it was particularly thick around the three jars, and soon it would be almost impossible to see them as the mist slowly seeped into them. For good measure, she made one more declaration to lower the poltergeist’s defenses completely.<br/><br/>“UOY EVAH ON REWOP EREH!”<br/><br/>It stood there in anger, torn between trying to flee again and trying to attack. If it attacked, with this wind, she would have no defense against it. The wind had lessened considerably but it was still strong, still howling. At least it wasn’t cutting her any longer, the last wounds it had given spread out among her upper and forearms as well as her shoulders. They could be healed easily enough; as cold as it was now, she barely felt their stings. True, the air had probably grown warmer, but the body is often slow to react to such things. It had certainly given her an erection, though she couldn’t control that; it would go away once she was sufficiently warmed up, and she had more important things to worry about at the moment.