Any chance that Abby may have had at retaliating to any of this — a hasty curse slipping free when Edgard roars and opens his mouth wide, wider, enough to split his head in two — is lost when the thing appears beside her so suddenly she can't get her mace up in time. It swipes. She ducks.

Her answering gasp is lost in the sound of the case knocking her down, wood hitting the floor, the soft spill of books out the sides. Stillness, for a moment. Then movement, one arm appearing out from underneath, scrabbling against the ground, Abby trying to decide if she can somehow wriggle out or if she needs to lift it off of herself entirely.

She's breathing hard, now pushing with her shoulder, head stinging where she hit it. At least it's less heavy with all of the books out of it.

Demon-Edgard is roaring in the background.