Trapped in his own skull, which aches still from the poisoned knife, the weasel explodes silently with rage and frustration. He knew that scalie wasn't to be trusted--he should have finished him off when he had the chance. Now his body and mind were full of the reptile's toxins...this wasn't looking good.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Alright, think...think. You've got this under control. It's just a trick, you can still move your body...move! Come on, we can't let them lock us up again!</span><br/><br/>At Mowlers words--and his too-close-for-comfort claws, the weaselfolk flinches and his pulse begins to climb. (involuntary actions, thus not blocked by the spell)<br/><br/><span style="color: red"><span style="font-weight: bold">&lt;&lt;Round 9&gt;&gt;</span></span>