Yōsái Fish Market

"A shahta'an has no right to name himself Shief," Meke growled lowly. "A shahta'an has no clan, nor title. Your Shief lost his claim to such things long ago when he betrayed your Shamana and the ancestors with her," he reminded her vehemently as he released his hold upon her clothes, leaving her to either stand or fall. "As did those who followed him."

The female Mira staggered backwards, keeping her balance by sheer determination and refusal to look weak in front of a potential combatant. Her right leg was almost entirely useless for standing, and so she leaned towards the left, gaze on his thoughtfully.

"Survival over all," she said, defiance lacing through her voice. The mantra that had persisted throughout her brutal tenure under Goliath's leadership, the one that had banded together her clan, came forth. Even as her vision blackened, adrenaline bled out of her quickly, her vision swimming, she managed to hold her chin high.

"We waste time dredging old wounds, warrior. I wish an audience with your Shief. I will go under whatever guard you deem necessary in order to pass along a simple message. Afterwards, I will accept whatever fate befall me."

"I have no Shief," Meke replied.

He turned from the female to walk away, pausing only briefly to look over his shoulder.

"These people. Harm them, and we will see one another again," he warned.

Surniph watched him, every barbed comment fleeing her as he stated his promise, heavy with threat. Unable to do more, she merely nodded her acknowledgement.

She had no ill will towards these people.

And with that, she let the darkening around her vision claim her, falling backwards towards the ground, slipping into sweet, comforting oblivion.