She is still kneeling, head bowed and hands clenched tightly in the green grass. At his touch, however, she jerks away, nearly falling-- and then scrambles to her feet, taking a shaky step back away from the two of them.

"What -- what have you--"

The voice is the same, soft and light and musical, but with nothing of chill to it, even in her fright and anger. Blue eyes are welling with tears.

"-- what have you done to me?"

Everything is warm around them -- especially because of Coyote's fire, perhaps. It is a beautiful summer evening, really.

For some.