Dreamer nodded quietly in response to Maeve's statement.  He saw her shudder again, and though he couldn't be sure exactly what memory had caused the reaction, he knew she had every right to still be terrified of what would happen now.<br/><br/>She might have said more, but she noticed Kitten, Sherra, and Feldana approaching.  Her eyes widened at the sight of her neice in her filthy nightgown, and she stammered the little one's name.  Her tone of voice suggested that despite that Dreamer had told her Feldana was all right, Maeve hadn't been letting herself believe it... but now, with the evidence trotting toward her, she had no choice but to believe.<br/><br/>Dreamer sniffled, and he quickly passed his hand over his eyes.  He glanced at the approaching trio, and nodded to Sherra.  He wasn't a fool; he suspected that with her keen feline ears, Sherra had probably heard a portion of his tale.  He didn't mind; the time had come to tell the truth, and not just to Maeve.  He -was- a bit embarrassed to show the tears in his eyes, though.<br/><br/>Still, his heart was suddenly lighter.  No matter how many terrible things had happened the night before and this morning, they had managed to save a few people.  Seeing Maeve and Feldana reunited was a good thing, a very good thing.<br/><br/>"Here, Maeve," he said softly, opening the door and offering her a hand --- his left one, the human one --- to help her get out.  Sore as she was, he knew that she would nonetheless want to get out of the car and squeeze the little one in her arms.<br/><br/>----  ----  ----  ----<br/><br/>It wasn't really about saving the beartaur.  It was more a matter of keeping things fair, that was all.  This powerful female was facing Alhanda's guard head-on, challenging them to combat despite suicidal odds.  She didn't expect to live, surely... but she had to see honor in dying this way, and was expecting an honorable response.  Getting blown away by a piece of artillery was anything but honorable.<br/><br/>In the crosshairs, the sniper watched the scene.  The beartaur was fighting with rage and incredible skill, first rampaging through regular soldiers and now battling warriors that had taken Berserker Juice.  The battle was not entirely one-sided, but the Beartaur would not survive this.  A little help was in order.<br/><br/>The sniper lined up the crosshairs on one of the soldiers on the wall.  The wolf was keeping down, trying to stay out of sight, but he was also trying to get a clear shot at the beartaur.  "Play fair," she whispered, and pulled the trigger.  The rifle in her taloned hands gave the slightest of jerks and made a slight "ptui" kind of sound through its silencer.  Far away, the offending guard lost the exposed top of his head, the rifle slug tearing open the top of his skull.<br/><br/>She crouched, watching from afar, waiting for another soldier to try to shoot the beartaur.  Her brown feathers moved slightly in the breeze, but she kept her eagle-sharp eye focused through the sightscope.<br/><br/>--This,-- she thought, --this is why I took the rifle.  I knew it, knew the humans would finally rebel.-- A soldier climbed onto the wall and went for the fallen bazooka.  She put a slug through his chest, knocking him off the wall to hit the ground hard.  --And they'll need all the help they can get.--