The entire world seemed blurry and inconsistent. 
Sounds faded into lights faded into smells faded into a distant nagging feeling. The elf couldn't move. The elf was in shock.
The sounds were of screaming. The lights flickered constantly as havoc was wreaked in the previously cosy little tavern. On, and off, and on, and off, and torches flickered, and whatever little 'lightbulb'-esque things that the place used to keep itself alight burnt out, and came back, and burnt out again. In the end, for good, leaving all in darkness.
The smells were strongly of ale, splashed all around the floor, and blood tinged the heady air like the promise of a new hunt.
[i]Promise, what good has it done..[/i]

And then there was the tugging feeling, and stairs, and wooden rooms, and heavy breathing.
And there was tan skin and white hair. Corinne was shivering, frame slight against the half-elf's.
"I...I'm fine." she gulped down the need to vomit. What [i]was[/i] that thing? She'd never seen anything like that before, [i]in the entirety of her life[/i].
How was she meant to react? She'd become disorientated, as logic would dictate. Elf or not, she wasn't super-human. Elf or not, she'd still run and sob and hide if given the chance against something that monstrous.
"I'm really, really fine. What...was that?" the chattering of her teeth came to settle. Her skin was cold. "Where did it come from? Why...why was it here?"
She paused.
"Tra...Trafalgar, [i]where did it go?[/i]|
It burst through the tavern's wall, that much she knew. It went outside. But outside where? It could have gone anywhere. It could have hurt anyone.
Thankfully, Uncle Seb was upstairs still. And safe, thank the gods above that he was safe. She was tempted to peek across the other room to check on him, and how he fared with the shaking and the noise and the chaos.
But knowing him, he'd probably be asleep still. He slept like a log throughout most things. Being knocked out probably would be the exact same way.
She sniffled a little and clung to his hand, steadying her breathing and coming to relax.
That was one of the good parts about being an elf. Heightened ability in some places superior to that of human beings. In this case, the amount of time it took for the heart-rate to return to its stable, resting state.

Cherry.
"Trafalgar, we have to get outside." she whimpered, blue eyes desperately searching the half-elf's. "Please...please, my horse is down there. I...if that [i]thing[/i] did anything to him, I swear to Sehanine... And not just him, I...it could have hurt anyone. killed anyone, and...I can't let that happen. Please...won't you come? Won't you help me find out what that thing was?"
And she only just realised she was gripping the man's hand so tightly, and let go with a little flinch and a gulp, and the slightest blush crossing her otherwise colour-drained face that was just coming back to life.
She walked to the stairs, and winced a little at what lay below. The tavern was in absolute ruins. [i]Pucksy would be shattered.[/i]

...where was Pucksy?
Where was [i]it[/i]?

"C'mon...we-we have to go!" she steeled her nerve, shot a glance back at the half-elf before almost flying down the stairs with the hurry that overtook her. There was a huge hole in the wooden floor. But it looked unthreatening now. The real monster was gone, she'd pray nothing else would worm up and out of there.
She looked around the tavern. Blood and ale and unconscious (or just incredibly drunk) members of most races lay in groaning heaps in different places.
She heard a whinnying and manoeuvred through the mess of limbs on the floor to the outside, where she was greeted with the most familiar face.
"Cherry!" she gasped as she approached the stallion, who shorted and threw back his head and whinnied in shock. He'd seen the monster. Better than she had. He'd know where it would have gone.
Though he didn't have to.
A trail of ruin clearly marked the path it would have taken.
And it followed all the way down to the town square, where stunned people still remain, down to...to Elric's humble abode. The lovely, good barber. Doctor. Both, rather. More importantly...
A very, [i]very[/i] good friend of hers, if only you'd stop and think about it.
One she'd be pissed to all Hell to lose.

"Cherry...it's alright, I promise. Look...look, it's alright, I'm here." she cooed, reaching out and calming the stallion down. And untying the reigns from the post that would have kept him from running away in shock the entire time.
He calmed down though, nuzzled against her with ears flattened. She slung her arms around him and cooed and quieted him down a handful of seconds longer, before moving around and pulling herself up and onto the saddle, the same methodical way as always.
She glanced at the doorway of the tavern, turning Lysander around so he could move closer to it. The horse was shaky, but responsive. That was good. He was reliable.
"Trafalgar." she paused, name rolling off her tongue quieter than she'd initially wanted it to sound. She had to sound courageous. It was no time to falter.
"We have to go. We have to find out where that thing's gone, and what will happen next. Unless you want to stay at the tavern, and...and make sure everyone's okay. I appreciate your decision either way."

The moon caught on the red of her hair, and the red of the hair of the stallion she rode.
You'd almost think war was approaching.