It pierces your soft throat!

Whoosh! The arrow flies across the five feet that separate you and the archer so quickly that you do not even see it. Nor do you feel it as it embeds itself in the only part of your body not protected by inch-thick grey hide - the soft, fleshy skin the forms the underside of your neck. You storm towards Mélanie, oblivious, balling-up and raising a mighty fist before bring it crashing downwards in a great arc. She rolls out of the way at the last moment as the stony ground explodes outwards under the shattering impact. It takes you a brief instant to remind yourself that you are supposed to mate with the girl, rather than splatter her into a sludgy mess of a dinner. An awful rawness tugs at your throat. You draw in a ragged breath, but your lungs struggle to hold any air.

Several seconds, and many missed blows, later, the irritation has grown from an uncomfortable itch to a searing pain immobilising you in its vice-like grip. You launch yourself into one last furious attack, arms flailing in all direction, but Mélanie avoids each and every strike with the same flowing ease as before. You roar menacingly, but the great cry is overtaken by a hacking cough as blood dribbles in rivulets down your chin. The lack of oxygen is excruciating. You pause, lifting one of your giant hands to neck, pawing over your features until you feel a wooden object lodged deeply inside. You tug sharply, hoping to lessen the pain. Quite the opposite. The barbed head rips through the tender flesh and the trickle of dark liquid becomes a torrent. Mélanie watches observantly, as if on the hunt. You collapse, extending one arm towards her in meaningless defiance.

You are thrown back violently into your human body. Shocked, you shake your head angrily in an attempt to re-orient yourself. You cast a frustrated glance in the direction of your your seeing stone, but you hardly need to look at the bloated corpse splayed awkwardly across the labyrinth floor to understand your failure. Mélanie is nowhere to be seen. You re-attune the colourless glass and its shell returns to a neutral, unseeing darkness. A harsh throbbing pulses through your head, one of the side-products of a possession cut short in such instantaneous fashion. Bitterly disappointed, you turn your back on the gruesome scene and curse, rubbing your neck tenderly.

You caress you temples and sit down in an alcove of the main chamber, still complaining to yourself. Although this spell poses no physical risks to your person, the pain and surprise of **** in another's body remains all too real and all too unpleasant. Indeed, this time was all the worse for the lingering nature of the wound that killed you. Irritated, you lazily mutter a few common healing spells and the room is bathed in a cool, green light as waves of soothing energy wash over you. You allow yourself a relieved sigh and spend several minutes focusing on reducing the headache pounding through your skull. Eventually, you convince yourself to stand up again, and you gaze back into the blackness of the looking glass. You pass your eyes over the map of the labyrinth, keen to exact retribution, and find the nearest yellow dot, towards the eastern section of the maze. You hope that it is Mélanie. More than one monster prowls the area. Eager to escape the residual soreness plaguing your mortal self, you swipe your right hand across the surface of the mirror in a swift motion and summon images of your potential hosts.