[b]Lyra[/b] sat at The Witch’s Paradise bar. She leaned against the counter from her seat, with a hand propping up her chin. Her other hand held an opened vial of lavender which allowed the calming scent to waft into the air around her. Kohl that had once carefully lined her eyes was now smudged. When the party had ventured back to Seren Folly, she had walked by herself and wept. And although she had tried to wipe away the evidence, dark and stained circles remained under her eyes. 
	
	Her gaze panned over to Bartolomeo. She knew nothing about demons so instead, she offered him a weak smile. She gave the same to Kalisel.
	
	“I hope you two are feeling alright. Especially after.. Auhm.. All of that.” Her voice was strong and held no quiver. But there was a certain softness in it. 
	
	She didn’t know what else to say. Lyra couldn’t even recognize herself-- not after seeing all of those desecrated bodies. Not after holding them and stepping on the ashes of their homes. She was not religious and couldn’t even try to comfort herself with visions of an afterlife. What kind of lives had those people lived? She couldn’t say.

	In the stables, Lyra’s dog, Jude, laid among the hay and muck. Upon Draco entering the stable with his horse, Jude leapt up and yipped at them with excitement. The dog danced around, begging for pets.