There’s a sound you hadn’t heard before -- a siren &. the crackling of speakers that catch your attention, gaze finding the tops of telephone poles and the realization of their existence only now settling in.
“Return,” The Queen’s voice calls -- “The hunt is over.”
Your feet carry you back to the square per the Queen’s orders --- They are weary & nearly buckling from the exhaustion that they had endured, but falling now would surely mean something worse was to come. Some around the Haze had already known the brunt of not obeying their calls & demands, & that had usually consisted of being dragged through the mud as if your livelihood was nothing more than trash, a mere space to fill in this worthless existence. You persist none the less, your nose able to pick up on the distinct scent of smoke from afar --- & You can nearly pick out a twinge of burnt wood as well. Had you truly succeeded? Or were the snakes so impatient?
Upon returning to the square, however, you are greeted with your answer as your eyes fall upon both Yakitsukeru & Samael storming through the snow & towards the flames. ( You swear that out of your peripherals, you can spot a bull as well --- You could only assume that it was a sacrifice for the Goddess, but it’s presence was unnerving. ) The fire dares to torch through their clothing & leave their marks upon the duo’s skin, but they hands claw & cut through the rope that had bound Shining Eyes to the post. Though you could only see from so far away, you could spot that despite the erratic nature of going about freeing her from her binds, that their hold with her is much more careful --- Yakitsukeru’s in particular. They work together to bring her down from the height, & carry her away from the immediate area of danger.
A sigh of relief relinquishes from your lungs -- One you weren’t aware you had held in your ribs for so long now, but it eases your tense posture considerably. It is a gruesome sight as Yakitsukeru takes her into his arms, & Deceiving scrambles through the snow to get to her side through the crowd. You can see how the flesh of her legs & waist had been scorched & burned up considerably, to the third degree -- Damage had been done onto the body that could not be reversed. Where skin had once been decorate in a sheen of white pigment & black scales, was now replaced with harsh, blotches of red & pinks, with skin clearly burnt away entirely & replaced with a more gruesome sight of muscle & infection.
It’s a gruesome sight, one that could make anyone retch --- But she was breathing, at least, despite the damage & how she was presumably unconscious from the smoke. Life was a fragile thing, & she had clung on by only a thread. But a thread would have to do.