When Anastasia woke up, there was only one thought that crossed her mind. Beautiful in how simplistic it was; wholly upstanding, a proverbial eighth wonder of the world.
And so, her quest began. The hybrid spent a scarce few seconds wriggling out of the blankets her father had supplied for her, only just finding the time to haul a thick, woollen cardigan over her shoulders.
She knew where Erebos would be, due in part to the fact it never really left or moved or anything. She could see its back, even, from where she stood near her sleeping spot. It just made this endeavour easier, which was absolutely fine in Anne's opinion.
The little hybrid shook herself out a little, taking a glance around the camp before she began creeping. Carefully, slowly, stepping very quietly as not to arouse suspicion from her sibling. When she got near the firepit (dead, thankfully) she scooped up a smooth, warm stone into her hands.
With a sharp breath, Anastasia shut her eyes.
She'd had little practice with magic so far-- just what Attikias had tried to teach her --but the limits of what she could and couldn't do did interest her. She was a little surprised when, as magicka flared up, tickling her hands carrying the rock, that it worked.
Her eyes opened again, and the stone hovered a few inches above her hands. She shifted it left, slowly, then the right.
Then she lobbed the damn thing into Erebos's back.
@Erebos