Tiffany is quick to recover herself. Her emotion had bloomed as suddenly as the griffon's blood, but she was taught to master it, and so she does. She does spare a glance at Ellis, and when she finds him snowy yet unharmed, she packs that, too, away. There is business that still must be done.

She does as she's told, quickly kicking the snow to cover the arrow. There is blood still on it. The first covering soaks crimson and so she kicks more, until there is a small mound studded only with bits of dirt and rock.

Butterball's next screech is less frantic. He rears onto his back legs as if to make a final dramatic point, wings flapping. When he lowers himself back down, it's with a thud, and another screech, but his wings settle at his side. He directs his next screech right at Ellis, an expression of offense.

Despite herself, a smile pulls at the corner of Tiffany's mouth.

"Does that mean he agrees?"