“I’m… I’m alright,” she said, trying to allay their fears. “Enough! Get off of me!” she commanded. She looked down one of the bazaar streets. The fire teams had made slow progress, but one of them had actually nearly breached the fire. “Everything’s going to be alright,” she said, turning to the changelings, saying it as a statement of fact rather than a reassurance. Changelings were, by and large, fickle creatures. Gentleness was seen as a sign of weakness because of its association with prey, even if one did truly care for another. As such, they favoured hard rulers, of which Chrysalis was, from time to time at least. “Look, we have cleared the fire. Go, flee.” Several of the remaining changelings fled, but a couple remained, uncertain.