[Amid the coppery dust that feels thick on her tongue, and the rain that, while frustrating, gives a small reprieve from the Sound Eaters, the scent of blood floods her senses, impossible to ignore. It's thick in the air, human and other creatures alike mixed together and indistinguishable from a distance. There's so much of it around, and it's difficult to tell friend from foe. Her eyes, normally a brownish burgundy swirl blood red, impossible to disguise when so many bleed from injuries and open wounds.
Her impression of the man with the inhuman eyes is that he's in poor shape. Covered in blood, she notices him stumble as he struggles to right himself amid the circumstances. Brows knit in concern as she approaches, Yuuki isn't sure immediately if he's one of the attackers or someone who has merely tried to defend himself from the start.
In contrast to the gore and their surroundings, what happens next doesn't fit into bloody scene. A couple of tiny butterflies, unaffected by the rain, flutter near the man. One, two, three... their number slowly increases ahead of a mass that concentrates around the figure of a girl as she nears. Upon her back the butterflies morph and change, merging together to form wings, with tiny ones separating only for others to take their place. It's ever shifting, but she doesn't show any sign of discomfort. Instead she's focused on him as she tries to access the situation, glancing toward a pile of bodies and back to the man.
Enemy or ally, what she knows for sure is that he's hurt.
This is one of the precious few occasions in which they can actually talk. In another flash she's upon him, and kneeling down she gently reaches out to touch him.]
You're hurt. Let me help bring you out of this mess.
B
Her impression of the man with the inhuman eyes is that he's in poor shape. Covered in blood, she notices him stumble as he struggles to right himself amid the circumstances. Brows knit in concern as she approaches, Yuuki isn't sure immediately if he's one of the attackers or someone who has merely tried to defend himself from the start.
In contrast to the gore and their surroundings, what happens next doesn't fit into bloody scene. A couple of tiny butterflies, unaffected by the rain, flutter near the man. One, two, three... their number slowly increases ahead of a mass that concentrates around the figure of a girl as she nears. Upon her back the butterflies morph and change, merging together to form wings, with tiny ones separating only for others to take their place. It's ever shifting, but she doesn't show any sign of discomfort. Instead she's focused on him as she tries to access the situation, glancing toward a pile of bodies and back to the man.
Enemy or ally, what she knows for sure is that he's hurt.
This is one of the precious few occasions in which they can actually talk. In another flash she's upon him, and kneeling down she gently reaches out to touch him.]
You're hurt. Let me help bring you out of this mess.