Making distance from a ruin they personally set alight, Kestrel takes her group back to their initial gathering point. The fire rages on, and even when the skies open up, the rain can't even touch the flames before it steams away midair, leaving only the sound of crackling. Breaking the silence, someone asks Kestrel. 'Boss, how many did you kill today?' 'Can't remember.' 'Who would remember after the heat of battle how many they killed, youngster?' a weary voice adds. 'To survive is already a job well done.' Kestrel lets the topic lapse, but that twisted face comes to mind. The one of an 'old acquaintance' scared shitless. The one she closed in on with every step. The one with no alternative but to jump from the roof. The one who left her only that face, one moment before melting into the sea of flames. She knew who that was. The assassin who murdered her friend. 'Still, this victory's worth celebrating. Today, we wiped out a few more of the killers who slaughtered our people.' Kestrel comes to a stop, looks back, sees the descendants she's brought along. The distant flames flicker in her eyes. They raise a cheer, but Kestrel doesn't smile. 'So how many killers to go?' asks again the one who broke the silence. Kestrel gazes over. It's a girl, still young. If the tribe still was, she would never be part of these fighters. She would be living her youth, a bright one, a happy one. Oh. That's right. She doesn't even have a 'bite mark'. 'You showed a great display today. I've now decided you should be rewarded with a 'bite mark.' Kestrel fails to directly answer the girl's question. 'While we return, you can think about what style of mark you'd like.' 'Really?' A feeling hits Kestrel. She's had this conversation. She was the girl before her. She, the girl, before the tribe's chief, the one who raised her—the one who was dearest to her, the one who outlined, over her left shoulder, the very first band of her 'bite mark'. Kestrel can't help but hug that shoulder tight, the warm memory almost abating the cold rainy eve, but it's only a moment before she comes to. For they, stood in the rain, are waiting for her. 'Really—now let's get back to the gathering point quick. I'll find the box, and then you'll be able to choose.' The group begins to slowly move, their figures gradually melting into the dark of night, never to be seen again.