INOPINATUM
@general-darius
She tips her head to the side, considering. In her time on this world, she had not yet seen another figure standing after her work is done. How very unexpected.
There is silence across the battleground. Those who are not dead lie quiet, either unconscious or simply stunned. The raw exposure of one’s own soul in its entirety both to oneself and another is a delicate matter at best, and an incredibly painful one at the speed she is forced to take in an active fight.
The fact that he is still standing, even silent and still, means he knows himself far better than many a mortal. She can respect that.
She makes her way over slowly, stooping to lift the worthy to their feet, whispering quietly to them. Those that were not tearful before are at her touch, and she is warm, taking her time with each one, ensuring they will recover.
Finally, though, she reaches the stranger. “And who might you be?” she asks mildly, stretching out her hand to him as well. Her crown of flames still blazes above her helm, and her wings are still somehow pure, not a speck of blood clinging to armour or feather.
