Meiko would have cried out from surprise, had her airway not been cut off. She dropped the lantern, bringing her hands up to her throat, trying to pry his hand away. His grip was much too strong. She was close to death, and so she could see the miasma clearly. It curled around him; petting him, stroking him, whispering lies. It curled around his arm and fingers, lending power to his weakened body.<br/><br/>She should have moved away the instant he said he wasn't in his right mind. Like a foolish optimist, she thought he was being poetic or philosophical. Now she was dying.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"You want... to purify me? Can you?"</span><br/><br/>Her eyes were half-closed now, red and watering. What was he asking at a time like this?<br/><br/>She knew she couldn't pry him away, and she knew he wouldn't stop as long as that miasma was manipulating his actions. She had to do... something.<br/><br/>It was the most she could do. She sent a prayer to high heaven and mouthed a single syllable with her purpling lips. "Yes."