Got just one question for you lot, eh? Why are you all gabbing about how to fend off the fae on the same magical contraptions what you woke up with? Ain't that asking to get spied on?

[Her voice is higher, sweeter, not yet roughened by maturity or hard use. Her words slide gracefully off her tongue. And there is the sound of boots on pavement, in a staggered rhythm. She's skipping.]

Ta ná calwa arya sinaurë! Ai, Azirael? Oi! Lael! L--Laelaithalas? Azirael?

...Hata?

[The last is more cautious, quieter.]

Aiyaaa?

So these things in the snow storm are weak against fire, eh? Are we sticking strictly defense or will there be a counter attack? Don't tell me you're all wusses, like Hewley.

Strange concept I know, but where I come from, if things wander around killing people, we kill them back.