There is a series of pops, and Jean's body twists this way and that. Her neck swing back into position with a crunching noise, and a bone that was previously visible in Jean's leg slides back under the skin as the flesh begins to knit over.

Her will done, Bethany opens her eyes to see that Jean's breathing has returned to a steady rate. There are still large bruises, and a few open wounds, but the girl appears to be resting easily.

The Crone swoops back down from the tree. Now standing again in human form about 10 yards or so from the two, The Crone leans over a long gnarled wooden staff, tipped with an obsidian spear head. "Very good," she says, her voice like the moving of rusted hinges, "I am glad to see you still have some semblance of your old power. Now away with this one." The Crone points her staff at Bethany and Jean, and with a thunderous boom, a yellow spear of lighting strikes Jean. Though Bethany holds her in her arms, Jean's body begins to shrivel, and then disappear, turning to a cloud of smoke that quickly evaporates in the wind.

The Crone takes a few steps closer, leaning on her staff like a cane. Her head turns nearly 180 at the howling and barking of the nearby wolves. Turning back she says, "I am afraid we don't have much longer here. It is not safe in these wilds".