Upon waking up, they immediately soared into the skies once more.
Azrael observed Victor silently. After close to 24 hours of continued use of the miraculous cigar, it had caused most of his injuries to close. The man wasn't in top shape. But should the worst happen, he would be able to defend himself.
He observed Isolde as well. She wasn't one that displayed emotions often, mostly unbothered by what was going on around her. However, there was a faint change—her hands trembled slightly as she took shaky breaths. Her white hair was messy, and she seemed to be fidgeting nervously.
"Are you okay?" Azrael asked using the mental connection she should have established, but no answer came.
Whatever had gotten her so shaken caused her to entirely stop paying attention to the things around her. She was experienced and should have known doing something like this could spell her doom…
With a frown, Azrael took her palm and traced his question, asking her the old way.
