Everyone took the gratitude in their own way, but Fleur was the pragmatic one of the group. "It’s only the beginning," Fleur said after a moment of silence, putting her mind elsewhere as she gently cleaned some of her feathers. Those who were not injured were doing the same, not only to put their mind elsewhere of their fallen sisters but also showing how much they cared about their feathers. I couldn’t blame them; it felt weird when you have things in your feather and I could only imagine what it must feel like as she removed a finger that was stuck in between her chain mail and feathers. The shudder that ran through her was nearly as bad as I get with death magic.