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From somewhere further Anora heard her name spoken with an Air'riela accent, it pulled her from her cloudy thoughts. Then with the airy sound of a bird beating its wings, a rain of darts pelted Anora's guard. The few that weren't initially struck began to move fast with bucklers raised. Her circle constricted around her, blocking her from harm. Anora watched between the spaces of their moving limbs as the darts deflected and struck true.
The guards moved, but some began to stumble drunkenly and peel away. A moment of decision was rushing on her, and Anora was almost too startled to see it. Despite her skirts and poise, there was a steel hand in her velvet glove. She was no warrior, but she was no cowering fool.
Fortunately, the steel hand took over in that moment of decision, propelling her into some form of defense as the Dark Elves wilted around her. She was not going to stay as they fell asleep at her feet.
The woman hastily plucked up a deflected dart and its remaining drug. When she rose, her legs pushed her into a run towards the voice and she gave an answering call.
"Hanzi!"
Running away was currently her wisest option, only a fool would plough headlong into trouble and a moving target was difficult to strike. She considered ducking into a shop, but wondered if it would get her cornered. At the moment, the gypsy's aid would significantly help matters.
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"I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken."
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