The battlefield breathes a collective sigh of relief as Vexena and Hela settle their fight over a discussion regarding Virelle's cuteness and fondness for anything plush. Smoke still curls off the cratered farmland behind them, the twin suns sinking low and bloody over the wreckage, and for the first time in what feels like hours, nobody is actively trying to kill anybody else.
"Fantastic!" Bela says, arms held wide as she steps between Hela and Vexena. "We're all friends now."
"She is not my friend!" Virelle scoffs, arms still crossed tight against her chest as she glares up at Hela, nose wrinkled in stubborn defiance.
Bela turns to her sister, voice low enough just for her to hear. "Now, can we please just go? We're running out of time!"
"Right! Of course." Hela turns to Vexena, bows slightly, and rises with a warm, genuine smile. "It truly was an honor and a privilege," she says. "I wish you well on your endeavours. The Great Mother—"
