The Gods-Smiting Whip carried Smokeless Jade Fires out of the arena in its arms. Was there any reason to believe its pilot wouldn't extract and hold the priestess in the same way once they were back? This marks the second occasion that Mira Fishers has held a flustered Dala Hunters in her arms, and her wet eyes glimmer with the same light that they did the first time, as they descend toward their respective crews on the (painfully slow) lift back down to ground level.

Her snowy hair is soaked through with sweat, and her synthweave suit is unzipped even lower than usual: all the way down to her hips, just to vent heat. She may also be alluring, or eye catching, or enticing, or ridiculous. She does not know. She does not seem to care. It is hot, her body is hot, her is sweltering and damp, and all of her conversations and negotiations tonight will have to take place over copious amounts of cool drinks or she might very literally die. The cockpit of her mecha is hot. It is unbearably hot; all that equipment produces enormous amounts of energy and Mirror was never willing to compromise on her deception enough to allow it all to be directed toward the outside of the machine. The further she pushes Nine-Tails, the less comfortable it becomes. There are benefits, perhaps, but this is the second secret weakness of the Gods-Smiting Whip.

"I find it intriguing," she says through a glint of mischievous fang, "The way our people always gather around a warrior in a game like this. We were enemies, minutes ago. Now your pack and mine have both come to revel in defeat and victory at the same time. How many will be drunk before we reach the ground? I wonder. It is, perhaps, the most admirable quality of the children of Hybrasil. At least, I think so. [All Who Gather Feast After Hunting]."

Mirror's arms are strong enough to hold Dolly without trembling. She is tall enough not to let her temporary princess' feet dangle near the floor. And for as overheated as she is, she is also composed enough not to balk or retch when she brings Dolly's body close to hers, to let her feel the truth in the messily spotted fur she once called beautiful against its owners own perception. She plants a kiss on Dolly's forehead.

"You were a sublime test, O Bride of the Goddess. But now you are overcome. You are defeated. You are finished with the tournament. And you are in debt. I am a mercenary before I am anything because it allows as disgraced a name as the One Day Defender to provide for my family, and my family is everything to me. Subsequently I did not rescue you for free, Dala Hunters Seven Quetzal. Are you prepared to pay me back, as your goddess promised? Will you honor your debt by working under me? And doing just. What I. Require?"

Mirror does not smile as she steps off the lift and into the revelry. Her eyes watch the cat in her arms intently and intensely as the smell of sweat drifts in waves around them.