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Azarni watched all of it unfold from a distance in a wide eyed state of wonder terror as the trees crashed toward Viera rather than splitting she and Shiara apart. If the girl who'd fought for her was killed-

Lathilos, the great brutish looking man who'd been chasing her was suddenly there, hacking his hammer against the tops of trees and was joined by none other than Viera's friend. [i]Together[/i] the two of them stopped the falling logs when only moments ago they'd been at each other's throats. Dumbfounded, baffled, she continued to watch in awe as the men squared off again only to lower their guard and weapons with a promise to fight another day. 

Her bright eyes, teary from an onslaught of emotions and the sweat that dripped into them, trailed after Lathilos and Isoltos as they left, disappearing back into the trees. Her thoughts lingered on the girl's silent cry, craving answers. This wasn't what she expected, not at all. Not after the stories she'd heard repeatedly, the rumors that circled the town every time she walked down the street as townsfolk pointed and looked at her with uncertainty.

Perhaps this was for the best.

Frowning, she gave a last glance toward her hands as the glittering tendrils snaked across her fingertips and dissipated. Heaving a sigh, she looked up when Marlowe called to her, sort of shrugging her shoulders up to her cheeks and biting down on her lip until-

[i]"Are you okay?"[/i]

"I-I'm [b]so[/b] sorry," she replied, taking a few steps toward them with a shakey hand stretched toward Viera. "I don't- I didn't mean for that to happen," she tries to explain, recoiling the hand to cup it against her chest. "Thank you. Thank you both, so much."