Giriel leans back against a rock. Or perhaps it's a bit of broken masonry from the castle? That's the thing about the symbolism of the tower, the catastrophe, its nature is to take the works of mortals and tear them down through a greater power until at the end who can even say what was once crafted and what was shaped by the gods. It doesn't matter though. What matters is that there's something solid for her to lean against, that whatever it might be or have once been it has the strength to hold her body and let her settle all her bulk upon the sandy soil and relax. Her legs scream at her as the pressure releases, that feeling like a rubber band stretched too far that can't snap all the way back anymore because it's strained too long washing through her legs and up her thighs. Yes, this would be a great time to simply let her legs fall asleep and the rest of her with it and she could deal with all the consequences of that later.

Of course, the instant she closes her eyes, there's an army. The world is like that. It's always like that. Just like it's always going to force those with dark knowledge into doing things that will bring them stares like Piripiri's stare. It's just always like that, it's how the titans and the gods and all their servants crafted it to be. Perhaps it was in the materials of Creation itself and even if they wished it, they could not have changed their clay any more than a potter can magically change the soil she is given to spin. 

For a moment, Giriel's heart races and fear and adrenaline shoots through her, that sudden jolt of attention snapping through her body, the band tense once again. But pain shoots through her legs and they protest and continue their strike. And at any rate after that first moment she sees Cathak Agata leaping through the air with her blazing sword and pulling Melody away from Han. She grins despite herself, a rueful sort of grin, the grin of irony. If it didn't hurt so much, she would bark a laugh. It's like an epic poem isn't it? Han won't find it funny, but there she is finally finding the girl she cared so much to save and because she looks to be a monster she becomes the villain in the story. All a big misunderstanding. Or...hmmm. The adrenaline is fading, and Giri isn't moving, but her eyes are focused. Red Wolf understood many things, she'd known just how to dangle the bait before Giri, known that she wouldn't say no to solving exactly the problem put in front of her. Was she...did she know and pretend to misunderstand, performing for her own troops? It was hard to think long on that though, not when Red Wolf was moving so gracefully, not when Giri imagined herself though far larger than Melody, gripped by those strong hands and pulled closed into those muscled arms and that curving chest with its heroic armor. 

Her eyes drift enough to that, ah good, there was Piripiri moving into their lines. Just as Uusha had thought then, well that had had always been the best guess. At least that brought a smile to Giri's lips though, a true one and not an ironic one. Because Piri would get treatment for her hand there, and safety, and a little comfort. She deserved that, deserved none of the suffering Giri had put on her, the exhaustion and the pain. Her blood had saved them and her march had been the hardest. 

Well come what may then. Yes, come what may. Giriel Bruinstead was tired and she had decided that moving was not in her near future, adrenaline or not adrenaline. She owed Red Wolf a report anyway, she'd saved all of them whatever they may think of her, and she'd eventually be able to sort things out for Han when they weren't all having crossbows pointed at them. Yes, that would be good. For now, she would do nothing and it would be the most blissful nothing there was. Giri at last closes her eyes and relaxes.