Luneshale Pass your body laid out on these filthy floors

he spoke in a tongue foreign to her—yet, at the same time, oddly familiar. perhaps not foreign at all, just. . .strangely accented:

aiutami. aiuta sangre—

sangue? fiamma asked by means of clarification, cocking her head. there was plenty of it on the man. he needed help. were there others?

he continued to motion her forward, and it was morbid curiosity rather than a sense of duty or pity that guided her steps. the erstwhile princess fell in line beside him, and it was at a hurried pace that they headed toward whatever destination the stranger had in mind.

cos'è successo? fiamma queried between steady breaths, eyes cutting over toward his. dove stiamo andando?

she was ready to switch to the more common tongue in an instant should it be necessary, but the man had addressed her in (what she assumed was) the words she knew well, even if the cadence was wrong. in times of crisis, it was best to keep it simple.