Welcome to Gaia! ::

He always did have a flare for the dramatic. Though, Ayra did have to admit, he made it look damn good, most of the time. However, this time the awe that normally accompanied such displays was now joined by spices that she normally didn't associate with him- fear. Anger, though not at him. And one more spice that she never thought she would taste in her mouth and feel in her heart as he flashed before her, though she made no move towards him...

Pity.

And still, as he skidded across the ground, the fear pulsed- the fear for him, not of him, and the overwhelming sense of pity. She moved towards him, holding him to her, making sure to keep his back to her. No matter how she loved him, she wasn't foolish- she would not dare chance being hit by his talons, should they re-emerge in an instant.

"Give me back my husband."

Feeling a stone by her fingers as she knelt behind him, she scooped up the smooth rock and clutched it tight before, raising it, moved it suddenly forward to strike the back of his head.

Victoria tried to settle herself down. Don't panic... don't panic... she repeated in her mind. The last thing she needed to do was give in to her personal fear, the fears of war, destruction, and bloodshed. She not only feared these things, but hated them.

And the bishop had to stop them.

Making another use of the Rescue staff, Victoria brought Melethia closer to her, so she'd be in the Mend staff's short range.

Elmine... Great Goddess Ashera... please give me the power to save them!

She prayed in her mind, and somehow... the staff got stronger.

{Level up by staff? =D}

Melethia felt her bones go back into place with her wings. She got up. She took a short glance at Victoria. "Thanks." Was all she said before she started to walk off.

Ayra couldn't stand to see him like this. While at first she felt him tense up and twitch ever so slightly, it was the trembles that let her know that all was well. Whether it was in anger or regret, she couldn't tell, at first- either way, the situation would end for one of them. The problem would be resolved, whether it meant her death at the hands of a furious and insane hawk or the cradling of a broken man in her arms.

"Oh, god... Tibarn..." She held him close as she felt his hot tears seep through the fabric, feeling a few of her own join them as she pulled him close, holding him tight as if afraid to let his sanity slip away from her again. Her eyebrows furrowed, though not with anger- merely with a fierce determination as she made a promise to herself. No personal mission would tear her away from his side again, not after this. Not after such an earth-shaking mess caused by one extended departure. And without their daughter to provide a base of mental stability, he'd been lost...

"It's all right... it's all right, dear. It's over."

The rock by this point had been discarded, leaving her slightly dusty hands free to move through his hair and keep him close to her. Her silent apology resounded when she flinched the moment her hand happened to glance over where she'd struck him just previously.

"You're back... thank the gods. You're back."

Tibarn held Ayra close and tight for several minutes more, then sighed and shifted to roll onto his back, spreading his wings wide and pushing himself up. "Uhhh," he groaned, raising his hand to his head where he'd been struck, and then he lowered it to the wound in his chest. "Uff," he added. "I..." He choked back more tears and wiped his face on his arm, taking a long moment to compose himself.

"We... Ayra, where... where is she?" He swallowed hard, turning his head. "Vah... where's Vah?" Bags were quickly forming under his red, puffy eyes. Suddenly all the energy that the curse had been providing him was sapped away, and exhaustion was catching up with him quickly. "Gotta... I need to see her," he murmured, struggling to his feet.

Tibarn blinked at the solution, then bit back a yelp and stood bolt-upright for a moment, feeling the solution splash onto his chest and start attacking his wound like cold fire. His eyes shot wide open and his wings flapped while he started cursing up a storm just on reaction, but as the sharp pain began to fade he slowly breathed out and relaxed.

Then the slow, constant burn started up. Oh, goddess, that stuff. She'd used it on him before when he took a nasty couple shots from a bandit sniper. Burned for over an hour, but it got the job done better than your average vulnerary. He winced, shifting, and sighed. "Could have warned me," he muttered before rubbing his eyes and shaking his head vigorously. "Okay. Okay, there's three of you? I can handle that..." He closed his eyes, letting a bright green glow spread from his chest down his arms and legs, up over his head, and in a flash he resumed his massive hawk form.

He crouched and shifted to let them climb on at their leisure. Time to get a good grip in his feathers.

Arashe quietly groaned as the battle was brought to an end, the Bishop's Mend staff repairing his wounds. But, despite the healing, the Sniper still couldn't move. The wounds might be gone, but the pain was still there. So, he just kept still, a bit surprised that someone had rushed over to pick him up. Struggling just to open his eyes, he was able to get them about half open before his delirious self started rambling.

"Sharpshooter?" The Sniper smiled, being hefted up onto the same Hawk that had attacked him. "I like the sound of that..." But, before he could keep talking, he went back into a state of unconsciousness at the sun's glare into his eyes.