Her wounds had tied up through vines and magic, battered from her previous flight on Khavur's back. Now, she just had to wait to see who she would fight- someone her size, someone large? Draconua was against the meat thing, which was a little disappointing, but it would keep her from immediately keeling over.

She still had to get back to Aethril after all this. Couldn't do that when you're dead.

Pollen had been rather excited for this match, no matter who she went up against. Everyone else was watched from the stands and marked off in a mental list. Not that one, and that one was out... About three matches in, she'd eventually made her way down to the backstage to prepare herself instead, her fur tingling with energy.

"WE'VE GOT A TASTE BEFORE..."

She tightened the vines around her arms again. They wrapped around her fingers, she tugged at them and she tensed, and she worried at them to no end. The last fight was hard- she barely hit Khavur herself, only hanging on by these plants. Maybe a repeat performance was in store- especially if the other person decided to fly, too...

"BUT CAN SHE KEEP HER HEAD IN THIS ONE?"

Breathing in hard and tensing her digits around the amulet about her neck, Pollen stood at the gates for her match, ready.

"GIVE IT UP FOR THE UNDERDOG, THE GARDEN KNIGHT, OUR OWN VALKHAND'S PET, POOOLLEEEN!"

The call had gone out. The gates dropped, and Pollen was thrust into the field again, prepared for anything. Lurching down, the Muta surged on her paws on the floor of the arena, digging in and widening her stance as she watched the other side for just who she'd be against. A rush went to her head already at the thought of it. There were a few her size, her fighting style, but it was a split on what size she'd be going against. Weapons? Tooth and claw?

Shoving up to her back feet, Pollen rolled one arm back, teeth bared to the world as she made herself ready for anything.

When Pollen saw more than two heads, she knew what was in store. Again? Pollen's stance drew down as she watched the entrance, her long ears pinning to her skull. Of course she'd go against something so big again. Of course Nemean would pair her like this. Was it even fair?

Or, well, maybe it was just a good challenge. Hissing in through gritted teeth, Pollen gave a single, determined nod to Morganoth's well wishes, a brief smile curling her lips. There's wasn't much time for her to note what Morganoth was about, only to see the beast go straight for a charge. She wouldn't survive if she didn't get out of the way- she had to dodge and fight like how she did with Khavur, with her whips and relying on Draconua's finisher.

Too bad she couldn't be paired against someone more fitting. But, well- Nemean was Nemean, after all.

Dropping down to surge away, Pollen stretched to the side, but was no match for the barrelling monster that was Morganoth. In an instant, the full brunt of the hydra's weight slammed into her, trapping her and breaking her, pain lacing through her back legs as a crackling noise reverberated from her tiny body. She was flattened, and pinned in place- completely at Morganoth's mercy.

She couldn't even think. The only thing she could do was scream, her throat ripped raw as pain flushed out every other thought in her mind.

If she didn't do anything, and fast, this match would be over sooner than expected.

When Morganoth swarmed Pollen, nothing but pure instinct ran through her. That instinct wasn't fighting through tooth and claw- she wouldn't stand a chance against this beast anyways, would she?

And so, when the time came, Pollen's arm uselessly flinched up as she cried out. "STOP! I FORFEIT! Stop!" While she couldn't physically defend, she could force the fight to be over, if the magic even came. Falling over to her other side as the opposite arm shot up, Pollen lashed out with her whip at the closest mouth and shoved all of her will into the living plant, aiming to wrap around one of Morganoth's mouth as best she could.

She wheezed out as she fell backwards, eyes closing for a brief second before snapping open with her perfectly still body. The fight was over. She wasn't going to fight. Her legs were broken, and she could feel the white-hot sting of pain from the fractured bones, the sensation washing over her and freezing her entire body. Would she chrysalize? No- she couldn't she wasn't weak like that. Wheezing again, Pollen flipped over and struggled to perch herself on her front arms, collapsing into the dirt. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her to accept it, but she couldn't- she wouldn't. Not in front of Aethril. Not in front of everyone else.

She held herself up on trembling arms, before falling again.