Round 8

The wind's sudden gust provides a fleeting distraction—just enough for Halie to act. The unexpected breeze catches the woman outside off guard, making her stumble slightly and loosening her grip on the phone. Behind Jeane in the doorway, Halie seizes the moment without hesitation—she draws something from inside her cloak with a swift motion. It's not pepper spray after all; it's a small bottle of holy water blessed during her cleric training.

She whispers an incantation under her breath and tosses the contents in a high arc toward the doorway, aiming for the space between Jeane and the threshold. The liquid sprays outward as it flies, catching both the hallway air and the edge of Jeane's outstretched wings with a faint sizzling sound. The blessed water hits the demonic flesh, leaving small singed patches where it contacts her sensitive skin.*

Jeane yelps in pain and surprise, instinctively recoiling from the stinging sensation. What the fuck—Halie?! She whirls around, wings retracting defensively as she clutches at the singed areas on her arms and chest. Have you lost your mind?!*